


A violent love, A torturing love

by KendraPendragon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, khanolly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-02-07 01:04:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1879158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraPendragon/pseuds/KendraPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly sees Sherlock's face appear on the screen at Bart's, but she knows it isn't him. It's his twin brother Khan. She hurries to 221B to find Khan about to kill Sherlock, so she offers herself to save his life. Khan takes her up on her offer and takes her away from him. While they are running, emotions start to stir. Emotions no one wants to feel...Khanolly</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The other one

Molly froze as she watched the screen.  
"Sh…Sherlock?" she asked in confusion. Then the picture sharpened and Molly gasped. It was his face. But the eyes were not. Those eyes…so cold and angry and full of pain. This wasn’t Sherlock.  
"Mycroft was wrong…"  
His voice was different, too. It was like the velvet growl of a panther. Invading her, rippling through her body and sending shivers down her spine. Never had she heard such a voice, calm but menacing at the same time.  
"…locking me away won’t work. That you let him do this to me…now, there is war between us, brother dear."  
Molly inhaled sharply.  
Brother?  
"Of course", Molly breathed. “‘The other one’."  
Words which had been spoken years ago. She hadn’t been meant to hear them, but she had. She remembered it vividly. Remembered Sherlock’s eyes flickering to the side.  
Hurt and fear.  
Fear…  
Molly pressed her lips together, whirled around and grabbed her things along the way as she sprinted for the door…  
~oOo~  
Totally out of breath, Molly reached 221B Baker Street. Throwing her body weight against the door she slammed it open, not caring to close it again before she stormed up the stairs, hearing things crashing to the floor.  
When she reached the top, dread filled her heart.  
Both chairs thrown over. The floor covered with books and lose pages. Beakers and the rest of Sherlock’s equipment broken, the shards of broken glass sticking in the carpet. John lying on the floor in front of the fireplace, his arm in an unnatural angle, unconscious. Sherlock lying on top of the smashed coffee table, just having been thrown onto it, the man who had done it crossing the distance between them with long strides.  
Molly didn’t take the time to look at him.  
She threw herself between the brothers, positioning herself in front of Sherlock, hand stretched out defensively.  
Taken aback, the man stopped and their eyes met for the very first time.  
Fear and tears in hers.  
Rage and confusion in his.  
"Please, please don’t hurt him", she begged breathlessly, shaking her head.  
"M…Molly, no…" she heard behind her.  
The man standing in front of her snarled and took a threatening step forward, his eyes darting to Sherlock.  
Even though she was scared and felt tiny compared to his intimidating presence, Molly stepped in his way and pressed both her hands against his broad, hard chest.  
"No, no!" she shouted, trying to catch his eyes.  
"Khan!"  
Oh, he got her attention now. His brows furrowed and his eyes, which were so much like Sherlock’s and so different at the same time, roamed over her face.  
"Please, Khan. Don’t. He’s your brother. He’s your brother!"  
His lip curled dangerously and he pushed against her small hands. She bent her head to catch his eyes once again.  
"What would your mother say?"  
Khan froze, his nose crinkled, tears filling his eyes. But he fought them down a second later as his eyes fixed her.  
Molly’s heart drummed in her chest.  
"Who are you?" he growled and she shivered.  
"I’m his pathologist."  
Khan’s eyes widened in recognition and Molly fought to not let her gaze drop. Their eyes were still locked while Khan thought.  
"Please don’t hurt him. I beg you", she whispered and a traitorous tear escaped her lashes. A tear whispering of long held feelings. Khan’s eyes followed its path down her pale cheek.  
Seconds passed with no sound but Sherlock’s pained moans.  
"You’re his heart…" he finally whispered and his eyes turned cold.  
Molly swallowed hard, but held his gaze.  
"Yes."  
"M…Molly…" Sherlock grunted and caused another tear to fall.  
"I will come with you if you stop this now."  
"N…No…no!"  
Khan looked down at his twin brother, who was struggling to get up.  
Then his eyes drifted back to the small woman with the big brown eyes.  
"I agree."  
"No! You can’t have her! NO!"  
Sherlock’s voice traveled after them as Khan let her down the flight of stairs, his big, strong hand curled around her small wrist, his grasp merciless.  
But she didn’t resist. She followed him as fast as she could manage.  
The most important thing was to get him away from Sherlock, she told herself over and over again as he flagged down a cab, shoved her inside and barked an address at the cabbie that would bring them out of town.  
She turned her head as they drove away, seeing Sherlock stumble out onto the street, blood running down his forehead, looking after them with wild eyes.  
Molly bit her lip not cry in front of Khan. Exhaling a breath, she leaned back into the seat, staring out of the window, trying to ignore the powerful, dangerous presence next to her.  
She would be okay, she assured herself.  
She would be okay…


	2. Adelheid Berge

As soon as they had reached the end of London, Khan climbed out of the cab. Before Molly could follow he had ripped the driver’s door open and dragged the poor man out of it, pushing him to the curb.  
"Hey!" the man complained and was getting back on his feet while his cab was already driven away with screeching tires.  
Molly could only watch it happen, unable to do anything. Quite frankly, she was happy that the man didn’t get hurt.  
Carefully, she looked into the rear view mirror…and found his glasz eyes staring at her.  
"He told you about me", he said, his voice lacking any emotion.  
Molly needed a second to calm down her fast beating heart. It always wanted to burst out of her chest when this man laid his eyes on her.  
"No", she shook her head. "I overheard a conversation between your brothers years ago at St. Bart’s. Sherlock mentioned your name."  
After a second, Khan nodded.  
"He feels safe there. His home away from home…"  
Molly inhaled sharply. It caught his attention.  
"Surprised Mycroft talked to me?"  
Looking down, she nodded.  
"How much do you know?"  
Her eyes drifted back to him. He held her gaze.  
"Not much", she finally answered, "something about experiments…a lab somewhere…psychological instability…" her voice faded out at the last words. She saw how his knuckles of his hand holding the steering wheel turned white.  
He didn’t ask or paid any kind of attention to her for the rest of the drive.  
They did end up in Plymouth harbour and to Molly’s horror, Khan guided her to an oil tanker, his hand wrapped around her upper arm, his grasp firm enough to hurt.  
"Is this really necessary? Can’t I stay somewhere in London?" Molly asked, her voice shaking.  
"There is no place in London which would be safe from Sherlock. He knows this city better than anyone, which you know well enough."  
He glanced down at her, a smirk playing around his hard mouth. Molly blushed.  
"I thought it was worth a try", she explained helplessly.  
Khan pushed her to the front and Molly had no option but to climb the stairs that would bring her onto the big ship and then God knows where.  
"As long as you obey, you don’t have to fear me, Miss Hooper", Khan exclaimed coolly.  
Then she suddenly turned around and he froze in his steps.  
They were on eye-level know, the ocean breeze playing with loose strands of her long hazelnut hair. Her eyes were big and brown and the fading light of the day sparkled in those deep pools. Khan clenched his jaw.  
"I’m not afraid of you", she said and her voice sounded strong and calm.  
Again, their eyes locked for a moment.  
The softness in her eyes irritated him. Until he became once more aware that she wasn’t seeing him.  
No one ever saw him.  
"I’m not my brother, Miss Hooper", he growled and turned her around roughly, pushing her to move along.  
"I know", he heard her whisper as she climbed aboard the ship that would bring her away from England and out of Sherlock’s reach.

~oOo~

She had set foot on the oil tanker and was pushed immediately into the arms of a big muscled black man who looked at her with confusion.   
"I thought you were after your brother, not a plaything" he commented, looking over her head at Khan.   
"Just bring her below deck", Khan snarled and turned to the Captain.   
Molly turned her head to look at him as she was dragged away, seeing him walk across deck, discussing things. The wind played with his long brown hair, throwing strands of it into his face which he brushed back by running a hand through his hair.   
Then her view was blocked by the broad chest of the man.   
"You'll see him soon enough, love", he grinned down at her and motioned her to descend the stairs in front of her.  
He lead her deep into the heart of the ship until they came to halt in front of a massive grey iron door. He hauled it up and before she knew it, Molly was inside a surprisingly spacious cabin. She was still looking around when she heard the door behind her fall shut with a big clonk and was locked a second later.   
Molly sighed.   
"Well done, Molly", she muttered to herself and walked across the deep red carpet to the double bed, plopping onto it.   
"At least the rooms are acceptable", she joked, snorted and buried her head in her hands.   
Sherlock was there when she closed her eyes, his face covered in blood and turned into a pained grimace.   
She had done the right thing, she told herself. Khan might have killed him.   
God, she hoped John was still alive. But she was pretty sure he had been breathing in the second she had looked at him.   
Molly let herself fall back onto the bed.   
She was staring at the grey metal ceiling when she felt something poking her back.  
She shot up and hastily reached into her jacket pocket and let out a laugh when she held her mobile in her hand.  
~oOo~  
"Done", the black man reported to Khan, who he had found on the bridge, bent over a map, discussing their course with the Captain.   
"Good", his Commander replied.   
Then he held out his hand.   
The black man looked at it. Then back at Khan.   
"What?" he shrugged.  
"Her stuff. Mobile. Keys. Other possible weapons."  
The man frowned.   
Khan clenched his jaw and crossed the distance between them.   
"Lance?"  
"Since when do you treat your girls like prisoners?"  
Khan growled, pushed him out of the way and sprinted for the door.  
Lance looked at the Captain.   
He shrugged.

~oOo~

"Pick up, pick up, pick up", Molly repeated hastily, going up and down in the cabin.   
"Molly?!"  
She let out a relieved laugh when she heard Sherlock's voice.  
"Yes. I'm fine. Are you okay? How is John?"  
"I'm at the hospital. He'll be alright. Broken arm, concussion, nothing serious. How did you escape?"  
"Um..."  
Sherlock gasped.   
"Where are you?"  
"He drove us to Plymouth in a cab and now we're on an oil tanker. The name is Adelheid Berge. I think it's German."  
"Did he hurt you?"  
"No, I'm fine. But I'm getting seasick easily, so I'd appreciate if you could come and get me."  
"Molly..."  
His voice was soft and Molly had to bite down tears.   
"I'm sorry, Sherlock. I couldn't..."  
There was silence for a second. Then she heard him clear his throat.  
"Don't do anything to anger him. He's unstable. Just be a good hostage. Tell him as little as possible but if he asks you, do tell him. It doesn't matter. I just want you safe."  
"I'll be fine. Don't do anything rash, Sherlock. Talk to Mycroft. You need him. Promise."  
Silence.   
"Sherlock!"  
"I promise", he finally gave in and Molly smiled, cradling the phone in her hand.   
"Molly I..."  
Molly closed her eyes. It felt so good to hear him up and well.   
"Tell me when you get me", she spoke softly.   
"Yes", he responded hoarsely.  
Neither of them wanted to hang up, but they both knew time was running out.   
"I'll find you, Molly. I will find you and bring you home."  
Molly smiled.   
"I know. I believe in Sherlock Holmes."  
She giggled, but the smile faded quickly.   
"Bye."  
"Bye."  
And she hung up.   
Looking around quickly, her eyes fell on the bookshelf which covered the entire half of the left wall.   
Rummaging around her bag, she brought out a tube of super glue, opened it and oozed a spot on the back of her mobile. Then she ran over to the shelf and with a grunt she pulled as strongly as she could. It moved just a bit, but it was enough.   
Molly dropped down onto her knees and pressed the back of the phone against the wood, gluing it to it. With just as much effort she pushed the shelf back against the wall. 

She was sitting on the bed when the door was pushed open and her captor stepped into the room. His sharp eyes made the air in her lungs freeze.   
"There has been a misapprehension of my crewman as to why you are here."  
His eyes were on the floor and he cleared his throat.   
Molly blushed as she understood.   
"Oh. This is your cabin."  
"Yes."  
Both of them were flustered.   
"Follow me."  
Molly slung her bag around her shoulder and walked to the door, trying very hard not to look at the book shelf. She had seen enough movies to know that one look was enough to give you away.   
He brought her down the corridor and opened a door for her. The cabin was small and lacked every comfort.   
As she turned around she realized he had followed her inside and took a step back. He was way too close.   
"Your bag", he said and reluctantly, she handed it to him.   
Khan opened it and rummaged through it.  
"Where's your phone?"  
She straightened a little.  
"I forgot it at the morgue when I saw you appear on the screen."  
His eyes turned cold again and he moved towards her until she had to tilt back her head to look him in the eyes.   
His breath hit her face as his eyes roamed over her face. She tried very hard to fight down the heat that was filling her cheeks.   
Molly flinched as her bag hit the metal floor.   
Without letting go of her eyes, Khan curled his fingers around her wrists and stretched out her arms.   
Molly gasped at the contact.   
Very slowly, his big hands wandered along both sides of her arms.   
She saw his jaw clench when his hands moved to her chest, slowly pressing against her small breasts as they wandered down to her belly. He even came closer when his hands roamed over her her back, his fingers lingering on the clasp of her bra.   
Their eyes never broke contact.   
Not even when Khan's hand moved onto her butt, slipping inside the pockets of her jeans and out again as they found them empty.   
"If you don't tell me where your phone is I have to check the front, too", he said lowly and the velvet tone of his voice caused her to shiver.   
Her insides where burning, his hands were still on her butt.   
She swallowed hard.   
"I don't have it", she said as calm as possible but there was a traitorous rabble in her voice.  
Khan clenched his jaw and Molly did the same as he slowly moved his hand to her front.   
His long fingers pressed onto her mons veneris and Molly pressed her lips together as he they moved down between her legs, covering her centre, pressing against it.   
A little gaps escaped her as she saw the cold fire burning in Khan's eyes.   
Khan could feel the heat of her womanhood through the fabric of the jeans and lust flared through him like it hadn't in a long time.   
Those big brown eyes never let go of his and he couldn't help but admire her for her strength and dignity.   
He moved his hands away, broke the gaze and bent down to feel her thighs and calves, moving faster now.   
In a cold voice he ordered her to take of her shoes next, bringing some distance between them by taking two steps back.   
She obliged silently and showed him that they were empty.   
He nodded.   
"We will be at sea for a couple of weeks, so I'm afraid you have to borrow from my wardrobe when your clothes are in the wash."  
"Where are we going?" she asked and slipped on her shoe.   
Even though her cheeks were still bright red, her voice was steady.   
Khan only gave her a look and Molly rolled her eyes.  
He picked up her bag and turned for the door when she stopped him.   
"Um...you said weeks, so..." she cleared her throat and shook her head, disbelieving that she had to say this, "...I'm gonna need something from the bag..."  
Khan opened his mouth to ask, then his eyes widened.   
"I understand", he croaked, opened the bag and held it out to her.   
Molly suppressed an embarrassed sigh and picked out her little neon green sponge bag.   
Khan gave her look and she opened it, showing him the tampons. With a quick nod she was allowed to close it again.   
"Could I also keep my book?" she asked just to say anything, pointing at the copy the latest Stephanie Plum novel.  
Khan nodded and she took it out, flipping through the pages so he could see she wasn't hiding a machine gun inside.  
"You do realize I'm just a pathologist", she couldn't help but comment.  
And he smiled a crooked smile, cocky and in a very unsettling way, sensual.   
Without another word, he left and locked her in.   
Molly pressed her cool hands, which were still holding sponge bag and book, against her hot cheeks. The edge of the book poked her in the nose and with a snort Molly threw both items onto the bed, which was the only surface available except for the little sink next to the door.  
"Way to go, Molly. At least he thinks you're a complete moron now...which you might actually are", she muttered under her breath as she sat down on the bed.   
With nothing else to do and her mobile intelligently hidden away in her captor's cabin, Molly reached for her book and flipped it open.   
At least she could catch up on her reading...


	3. A ray of light

It was the next morning when Lance came round Molly’s cabin/cell to bring her some food and let her use the bathroom.  
As soon as he opened the door, the sour scent of vomit filled his nostrils. Khan’s prisoner lay on the metal floor next to the sink, her hair sticking to her forehead. She was sleeping.  
"Dammit", Lance uttered, put down the tray of food outside the cabin and stepped inside. He carefully lifted Molly off the floor. She only let out a little whimper. "You should have said something, Miss. I’ll talk to the boss. Although I can’t make any promise. Depends how valuable you are to him."  
He looked down at her pale, sweaty face for a second. Then he hurried to get a bucket. Lance placed it next to her bed where she could see it before he headed out again, locking the door but leaving the tray behind.  
He found Khan on the bridge.  
"We have to talk", Lance announced and waved at his commanding officer to follow him outside.  
Khan left the Captain’s side to meet Lance in the narrow hallway.  
"What?"  
Khan wasn’t in a very good mood this morning. He hadn’t slept well, dreams of his brothers and the past years of torture haunting him.  
"Your lady is seasick. Has puked her brains out last night."  
"Are you sure it’s not a trick?"  
Lance looked at him impatiently.  
"I am able to recognize the symptoms of sea sickness when I see them, Khan."  
Khan looked down the stairs, thinking.  
"She needs medication."  
Still no response.  
"Why bring her here when you just let her die?"  
"Don’t be over-dramatic", Khan snapped.  
"Her condition mustn’t be taken lightly, Khan. This is a problem."  
"I am going down. I still think she is faking it."  
"Dammit, man. She’s just a woman, no damned MI6-agent."  
Without a warning Khan rushed forward and slammed Lance against the metal wall. His eyes were burning with a cold, menacing fire when he looked at his crewman…his friend.  
"I’m your commanding officer! You will address me accordingly! Is that understood?!"  
"Yes, Sir."  
Lance glared back at him.  
After a second, Khan let go of him.  
"This woman is the lover of my twin brother. She mustn’t be trusted."  
With that, Khan stormed off.  
Lance looked after him as he rubbed his shoulder, his friend’s grip having bruised his skin.  
"It’s getting worse", he muttered under his breath before he turned to talk to the Captain.

~oOo~

Khan smelled the same bitter odour as he entered Molly’s cabin. She was still lying on the bed as he approached her. Towering over her, he looked down at her color-lacking face. Her lips were parted and there were dark shadows under her eyes.  
Khan sat down on the bed and pressed index and middle finger against the vein on her exposed throat. Her skin was cool and her pulse way too slow. On an impulse, his hand drifted upwards and brushed the hair out of her forehead.  
To his surprise, Molly groaned and leaned into his touch. His hand glided down to cup her cheek. He didn’t do this on purpose. It just…happened.  
"You should have told me that you need medication when you’re at sea."  
His voice was way softer than he had intended.  
Her eyes wanted to open, but the lids only did as much as flutter.  
"Your hand in my crotch distracted me…" she replied weakly.  
Khan cleared his throat, taken by surprise with this comment.  
"It was necessary."  
Molly managed a snort.  
"Yeah, right."  
He pressed his lips together as he felt heat creep up his cheeks. This hadn’t happened in a very long time.  
He pulled his hand away.  
"No…good…put it back", she whispered and surprised her captor once again.  
Finally, her eyes opened and Khan and Molly looked at each other.  
"Can I go home now?"  
Khan clenched his jaw at her pleading tone. He stood up from her bed in one of his catlike movements and straightened his black shirt.  
"I’ll get you some medicine", he only said and hurried to leave her.  
He met Lance outside her cabin. He already had the medication in his head.  
Khan glared at him, but Lance only patted his shoulder.  
"Knew you’d come ‘round. She’s not the enemy, Khan. She just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."  
Lance wanted to pass him, but Khan gripped his wrist.  
"She was exactly where she wanted to be", he snarled, looking at the slightly taller man.  
"Don’t underestimate her. She’s dangerous."  
Lance looked at him as if he’s gotten mental.  
Narrowing his eyes for a second, Khan let go of his wrist and left with long strides.  
With a sigh and a shake of his head Lance stepped into Molly’s cabin to take care of her pitiful state.

~oOo~

It took two days for Molly to feel like herself again. The urge to kill herself gone and the vomiting having stopped, she could think again. All her hope was focused on Sherlock. He had the tanker's name. Surely it would be easy for him to find it with Mycroft's help.   
Yeah, she would be fine.   
Sherlock would make sure of it.   
She just had to do as he had said, be a good, quite hostage. Certainly, this was manageable.   
Piece of cake.  
...Were the walls coming closer?

God, being a hostage was utterly boring. She was totally left to herself. Five days passed without anything happening, if you didn't count Lance showing up to bring her to the loo. And really, you couldn't count it.   
Even though he didn't seem a bad fellow, he wasn't what one called talkative. He barely spoke, never answered any of her questions. Just guided her to the loo, stood guard in front of the door as she took care of business and brought her back to her cell.   
It definitely was a cell. There were still traces of the vomit-smell in her cold white cabin, the mattress was way too soft to for her taste and to top it all off, she didn't even have a bloody bull's-eye to tell if it was night or day.   
This sucked. All of it.   
Yes, sure, she was a hostage and all, but she was an ordinary person without any skills that would be any danger to anyone (yeah, all right, she could do some damage with a scalpel but where should she get one on a oil tanker, for heaven's sake?) and she just didn't deserve to be treated like this!  
So, after a week and three days of staring at the white ceiling and reading her book three times, she had had enough.  
"No", she said as Lance showed up for their little fun wee-routine and crossed her arms in front of her chest.  
"Listen, I realize I am no guest on this ship of yours, but I still came here voluntarily and have been co-operating from the beginning. But being locked up in this smelling cabin without so much as a window is unacceptable! So I ask, no, I demand a more appropriate room! I'll go mental in here!"  
Lance just looked at her, his face being neutral.   
"Do you have to go to the loo or not?" he asked a second later.  
"No, dammit! Now go and get me Khan! I'll talk to him myself if you don't have the guts to do so!"  
Lance furrowed his brows at this.   
"Listen, Miss Hooper..."  
"It's Doctor Hooper for you!" Molly interrupted him angrily.  
"Whatever", he waved her off, "you would be well advised to direct your requests at me instead of the Commander."  
Molly only rolled her eyes.  
"I don't care about your stupid chain of authority. I just want to get out of here and if you can't do this for me, then I have to talk to the man in charge. Now get me Khan!"  
She might have yelled the last bit.   
The tall, well-built man in front of her just crossed his arms in front of his chest and raised an eyebrow at her. Suddenly, the cabin looked smaller and Molly had to focus not to take a step backwards.  
Stay strong. No sign of weakness now.  
To her surprise, Lance sighed and let his arms drop a few moments later.  
"Fine, I'll ask him. Wait here...oh, right, you can't go anywhere else."  
"This is so not funny", Molly retorted dryly.   
"Yes, it is", Lance grinned at her over his shoulder, his white teeth showing. He looked a lot less dangerous with this rather boyish smile.   
When the heavy metal door fell close again, Molly puffed out some air. Her legs felt wobbly and she dropped down onto her bed. She had to wait for almost two hours before the door opened again with a metallic screech.   
It was Lance. Molly tried to ignore the disappointment fluttering in her belly.   
"I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to here first?"  
"Does the good news involve me getting off this bloody ship?"  
"No."  
"This is the only thing I would consider good news", Molly said coolly.   
Lance let out a chuckle.   
"You're quite the ray of sunshine, aren't you? I was able to persuade the big boss to let you go on deck for an hour each day. You will stay here, but it will be cleaned which will do something against this smell, hopefully. His gracious Highness also allowed that you borrow some books from him to pass the time."  
Molly couldn't help but giggle, which she hastily tried to turned into a cough.   
Lance smiled, anyway.   
"Follow me."  
Molly's heart beat faster as she followed Lance through the corridors up and out of the tanker's belly. Her eyes drifted from side to side, searching for the familiar tall figure and face. But he was nowhere to be seen.  
Then she stepped on deck and the fresh sea breeze hit her and Molly forgot all about him.  
She closed her eyes and inhaled the salty air as deep into her lungs as she could.   
The cold wind tore at her hair and cradled her face in the most refreshing way.   
Molly felt at least three years younger.   
It was surprisingly sunny and she shielded her eyes to take a look around the long deck, which mainly consisted of massive baby blue and red pipes and a narrow pathway across the full length of the deck, branching off into several sections to reach the pipes if necessary.   
"Darn, this is big."  
"Yup", Lance commented. "You're not gonna jump overboard, are you?"  
"Of course not."  
"Fine. Go ahead then. You have an hour. I'll meet you here" he said and with a nod he swung the door close and she was left to herself.   
Taking another deep breath, Molly brushed her long hair out of her face. She liked how the wind played with her strands, so she didn't put it up in a bun.   
Molly walked down the narrow path, looking at the sea that was surrounding them. The blue of the water and the sky as far as she could see.   
Beautiful.   
Sixteen feet above deck, on the bridge, Khan was standing by the windows, his arms crossed in front of his chest, and looked down at the small figure walking across deck. He watched how she held her face into the sun while the wind danced with her hazelnut strands.  
His jaw clenched as he felt an unwelcome feeling spread in his gut.   
It took him longer than usual to notice the man entering the bridge.   
"You left her alone?" he asked his second in command who stepped up next to him.  
"We're on the bloody ocean, Khan. What's she going to do? Swim back to England? She's just taking a walk after a week being stuck below deck. Don't you remember how it's been for us to be locked away, not feeling the sunlight on our skin for months?"  
Khan balled his hands into fist.  
Of course he remembered it. In fact, he did what he could to ensure that something like this would never happen to any of the 74 people in his team. Even if this inclined killing his brother...or both of them.   
They had betrayed him.   
They weren't his family any longer.   
Not even Sherlock. His twin. The one he had trusted most in this life before said brother had sold him out to Mycroft's men.   
The only people he considered family now were the people who had suffered with him throughout so many years of tiresome and painful genetic re-programming.   
He had abandoned his God given name and had taken up a name more fitting his new abilities.   
Khan Noonien Singh.  
A name people will only so much as hush in terror in the very near future.  
Especially his brothers!  
His hostage stretching her arms and legs stopped Khan's train of thought and his eyes fixed on her once more.   
Molly Hooper.  
The key to his brother's downfall.   
All Khan had to do was wait for the right time.   
And then, when the world was at it's feet as well as Mycroft and Sherlock, he would enjoy his begging for her safety, He would enjoy the agony on his brother's face when he killed her in front of his eyes, tossing the lifeless body to the side before he finished him off, as well.   
He would save Mycroft for last.   
Play with him.   
Give him one more demonstration of the power he had forced upon him, listen to his screams before he would silence him forever...  
"I know that look."  
Khan's cold blue-green eyes drifted to the side, glancing at his first officer.  
"You plan to kill her, don't you?"  
Khan looked back at Molly, who was still walking around on deck.   
"It's been decided ever since she had admitted who she is."  
"So she has to die because she fooled around with your brother?"  
Khan watched how Molly bent over the railing to look down at the sea, her hair being blown around her head.   
"She is more than that. Sherlock loves her. And he had sworn himself to never love somebody. She is his heart."  
Lance and Khan watched the clueless woman silently for a while.   
"I don't like this, Khan", Lance finally admitted.  
"Discovering your conscience now, Lance?"  
The black man only snorted and Khan glanced at him.   
"You like her, then", he said and grinned sarcastically.  
Lance turned his head to look at Khan.  
"No, I think you like her."  
Khan stiffened.   
His eyes glanced at Lance, who put a hand on his shoulder before he turned to leave.   
Khan was left to his own devices.   
His eyes wandered back to the doe-eyes woman, Lance's words echoing inside his head.  
What a ridiculous thought!

...And yet he was unable to take his eyes off of her...


	4. Strength

At least Khan lived up to his promise. Each day, Molly was allowed one hour on deck when the weather was well enough. Molly enjoyed this one hour very much and she sucked up the sunlight like a sponge. Often enough she just held her face into the sun, her hair freed from the elastic and at wind's mercy.   
Lance usually stood guard by the door, watching her from afar. He was painfully reminded of his own imprisonment every time he looked at her and one day, the thought of being reminded by all the tortures and the experiments he had endured yet again became unbearable. So he accompanied Molly along deck.   
“If you don't mind”, he added as he saw her huge eyes.   
“No,” she snapped out of it, “it's fine. I'm just surprised, is all.”  
“What, that an evil super human would like to take a walk with a beautiful young lady?”  
Molly eyed him suspiciously. Lance raised an eyebrow, a typical gesture, as Molly had noticed.   
“You're not used to compliments?”  
“Not from evil super humans”, she shot back and turned around, hearing his chuckle behind her.  
He followed two steps behind her for a while, which made Molly very uncomfortable.   
“Either walk with me or wait by the door. This is just creepy.”  
“Yes, Ma'am.”  
Lance caught up to her and folded his hands on his back. Molly couldn't help but notice the massive muscles flex under the tight black shirt. Her eyes might have lingered a second too long, for Lance looked down at her.  
“What?”  
Molly flinched.   
“What happened to you? I mean, how did you become like this?”  
Lance let out a sigh and turned his eyes to the horizon. So much for not thinking about the painful past.   
“Genetic re-programming.”  
“Yes, that much I know. But how was this possible?”  
“Due to a lot of ruthless experimentation on human beings over several years. If you want a more scientific answer, I can't help you. I'm a soldier, not a geneticist. You have to ask Khan, even though I hardly think he would share his knowledge with you.”  
Even though Lance continued to speak, he very well noticed the soft pink that crept up her cheeks as soon as he mentioned his Commander's name.  
“So he knows exactly what had been done to you?”  
“Yes.”  
“Can it be reversed?”  
“No.”  
“Would you want it reversed?”  
Lance stopped. So did Molly.   
She looked up at him against the sun, shielding her face from the bright light with a hand.  
“What are you trying to do?”   
Molly sighed.  
“Again, with the suspicion. You and Khan have to accept that I am not some sort of spy or assassin. Keep your pants on! I'm just a terrified specialist working at Bart's who is trying to understand what the hell is going on here!”  
She stormed off then and Lance looked after her. His full lips turned into a crooked grin. She had guts, he he had to give her this much. With a few long strides he had caught up to her again and wrapped his big hand around her small upper arm to make her stop.  
“I see your point. But you don't know what we've been through, what has been done to us.”  
“That's why I'm asking, you clod!”   
Lance chuckled and shook his head.   
“No, no, no. You only get one insult a week.”  
The sparkle in Lance's black eyes made Molly smile.   
“Sorry. I'm not good at being a hostage.”  
“Oh, you're not doing so bad. Being co-operative has been the right decision.”  
Molly nodded and together they continued their stroll over the deck of the massive oil tanker.   
Lance breathed in the fresh breeze and held his face into the sun, just like Molly had done.   
“They've captured us at different stages of our life. I've never seen any, but I heard the screams of children a few times. I don't know what criteria there had been to enter the program. They never spoke to us. We were nothing but lab rats for them, stored in a small, dark cell with nothing but a military bed and a toilet in the corner. No windows. I haven't seen the sun for 8 years. This has been the worst. Separated from warmth and light. I've been cold all the time. I shivered in my bed at night. Every night. A horrible feeling. The pain which followed the injections was nothing in comparison. You knew the pain would be over at one point. Either your body accepted it our you'd die. But the cold was a constant which gnawed on mind and soul.”  
Lance visible shivered.   
“Nah, that is no topic to talk about on this lovely day. Come, Doctor, let's walk in silence for a while. I prefer your company when you're quiet.”  
“I'm almost sure there is an insult in there somewhere.”  
Lance just laughed and grinned at her over his shoulder.   
This time, Molly caught up to him, her mind full of questions, but she kept quiet. When such a strong giant shivered from memories, it really might be best not to poke in them...

~oOo~

“You talked a lot to our hostage today”, the icy voice of Khan greeted Lance as he set foot on the bridge after he had brought Molly back to her cell.   
Lance decided it was best to just shrug his shoulders. The stiffness in Khan's posture told him that his commanding officer wasn't in the best of moods.   
“I don't pay you to chat up our prisoners.”  
“Since when do you pay me?” Lance commented with a grin and stepped next to Khan to lean against the dashboard.   
Khan merely threw him a glance.   
“What happened?” Lance asked after a short pause. “And I really hope that something did happen. Otherwise you would be annoyed just because I talked to your hostage and that would be...unprofessional, to say the least.”  
“Get out!”  
The official Captain of the Adelheid Berge flinched and quickly hurried to the furthest corner of the bridge and Lance put a hand on Khan's shoulder.   
“Khan. From brother to brother. If you seek female companionship, go to her.”  
“I won't force myself onto a woman, Lance.”  
“That's not what I meant and you know it. She's attracted to you and you can be charming if you want to.”  
Lance saw Khan's jaw clench.   
“From brother to brother”, Khan breathed and straightened, danger evaporating from his every pore, “leave.”  
Lance sighed, shook his head and left without another word. 

The former soldier made sure to stay out of Khan's way for the rest of the day. However, Khan joined him in the wardroom the same night. The men exchanged a look, then Lance nodded him over. The Commander got himself a cup of coffee and sat down next to him.   
“Cards?”  
Khan let out an agreeing grunt and Lance dealt the cards. The men sat and played in silence for almost an hour. When Lance won yet again, Khan threw his cards on the table and leaned back in his seat. Lance grinned at him winningly. Khan was not amused.   
“What is bugging you, brother?”  
Lance always addressed him with his well deserved title in public. But when they were just the two of them, the chain of authority melted away. In situations like this they were brothers. After going through hell together, they were nothing less.   
“My brother.”  
“What did I do now?”  
“No, my real brother.”  
“Oh”, Lance snorted. “Which one?”  
His friend just raised an eyebrow and Lance nodded.   
“We have to be prepared. He will come for her.”  
“He doesn't know where we're going. Or where we are, for that matter.”  
“He will find out. It's just a matter of time. It's of utmost importance to not tell Dr. Hooper anything.”  
“Are we really having this conversation? I'm not a moron, Khan. I just made small talk to calm her down.”  
“Is she scared?”  
“She is held hostage on an oil tanker surrounded by men with no clue where she's going and if she's going to survive. Yes, she's scared. Even though she is hiding it well.”  
Khan let one of the cards slide through his fingers. Then he rose and nodded his goodbye.   
After he was being left alone, Lance started a game of Solitaire. A smirk played around his lips. He knew his Commander well enough to know where he was heading. 

~oOo~

Molly flinched when the silence in her dark cabin was ripped apart by a loud banging on her door. She sat up in her bed and had just switched on the light when her door was pried open.  
Molly couldn't help the sudden increase of her heartbeat as she saw Khan stepping into the room.   
She saw how his eyes were set on her chest and her own eyes followed his.  
Oh, right.   
She was wearing one of his shirts to bed. With only one outfit available it wasn't as if she had had much of a choice.  
Molly cleared her throat and tried to cover herself without ostentation.   
Khan mimicked her throat-clearing and lowered his eyes.   
There was a moment of awkward silence before Khan slipped his ice-mask back on.   
“You will tell me what you overheard my brothers talk about.”  
“Now?”  
“Yes. Follow me.”  
When Molly didn't move, Khan gave her a cold look. Her cheeks blushed.  
“Ehm...I'm not wearing any bottoms.”  
Khan took a deep breath.  
“One minute.”  
And he stepped outside, leaving the door open. Molly quickly jumped out of her bed and into black pants. Khan's black pants.  
Of course he noticed when she joined him in the hallway. His eyes hurried up and down her body. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. But she had only had one minute, so what had she been supposed to do?  
Anyway, he didn't comment on her dressing and started walking down the corridor. At night the lights were turned off, leaving only the green neon-lights over each door to support their way with lighting.   
Molly couldn't help but let her eyes wander over Khan's back. The artificial light seemed to repaint the defined muscles beneath the fabric and as her gaze lowered, she noticed that – in this light – his bottocks looked delicious enough to sink her teeth in.  
What the hell are you thinking? This is your captor you are talking about! Get a grip, woman!  
Molly closed her eyes for a second...and stumbled over the metal frame of the next door.   
She cursed under her breath as she fell forward, crashing into Khan's back.   
A second later she was being pressed against the rough metal wall of the corridor.   
She let out a horrified gasp when she saw the fury in Khan's eyes as he glared down at her with curled lips and flared nostrils. His lower arm was pressed against her throat and she gagged from the force of it.   
The desperate sound caused Khan to blink.   
He instantly let go of her.   
Coughing, Molly rubbed her throat with one hand while she carefully glanced up at the tall man.   
Khan clenched his jaw. She saw his hands ball into fists.   
Without another word he whirled around and stormed off.   
Letting out a breath, Molly willed her heart to beat regularly again. She resisted the urge to hug herself and refused to accept that she was truly shaken by this sudden act of aggression.  
Begrudgingly, she followed him.

They ended up on deck and Molly felt relief wash over her. Even though the medication helped with the sea sickness, it surely didn't help with the feeling of trepidation. Being locked up in a room without windows in the middle of the sea for most of the day wore her out physically as well as mentally.

The wind on her skin was as welcome as the starry night, even though it was quite chilly. She gazed up at the stars and her eyes widened. Never had she seen so many bright little lights illuminating the sky. She gasped when she saw the moon. It was full and big and shone it's cold light down on them. 

Suddenly, she was aware of his presence behind her and once again she shivered. Instinctively, she stepped away from him before she turned around...and suppressed another gasp.   
Sherlock...  
Tears filled her eyes and she had to avert her gaze. In this lighting he looked so much like his brother it was deeply troubling after the violence.   
“Tell me what you heard” she heard him purr and Molly turned around completely, looking up to the moon again. Even though its light was cold, it gave her comfort.  
“Why do you want to know now? I already told you what I know.”  
“I'm not here to answer your questions.”  
“Why not?”   
Anger flared inside of her and she whirled around to face him, the wind tearing at her hair.   
“What?”  
“Why aren't you answering any of my questions?”  
Khan looked at her in disbelief.   
“You're my hostage. Hostages don't demand answers.”  
“Don't they?”  
“No”, he growled and narrowed his eyes.   
They widened a second later as she crossed the distance between them.   
“Tell you what, then: I'm not a normal hostage.”  
His nostrils flared and his hands turned into fists again, but Molly stood her ground.  
“I refuse to be scared of you, Khan. I've done nothing to you and I don't deserve to be locked up in this...this metal cage all day long! You will let me walk around the ship freely from now on! And you will give me a room with a bloody window or I swear to God...”  
“What?” Khan barked and straightened to his full height, towering over her like a beautiful and deadly predator. “What will you do, Dr. Hooper? Swallow too much of your medication? Hurl yourself off this ship? Slit your throat with a page of your book?”  
Molly stumbled backwards as he advanced on her with every sarcastic question. When he was finished she was pressed against the white metal rail. He trapped her with one hand gripping the metal on each of her sides and leaned in, his eyes looking almost white in the moonlight.   
“There is nothing you can do, woman. You're at my mercy and I will decide what will be done with you...and to you, if you don't co-operate. Accept the truth, Molly Hooper: You're mine!”  
His evil snarl made her snap.   
She spat into his face.   
While he stumbled back a few steps and wiped her fluids out of his face, she blushed furiously and felt shame rushing through her. Never had she done such a thing. She felt filthy. This was so not her. She could hardly believe she had done something like this.   
“God, I'm sorry”, she breathed, but it was drowned out by Khan's growl. He rushed forward and pushed her against the rail, his big hands wrapping around her upper arm and her throat violently.   
Her mind started rushing when she felt his hand close around her tiny throat and she realized her life was in danger. The oldest instinct, the instinct to survive, kicked in and Molly felt the adrenaline pumping hot through her veins. It gave her the strength to look him square in the eye as her throat started to hurt.   
“NO!” she said in a clear and demanding voice.   
Khan's hand stopped squeezing.

Time froze as they looked at each other, Molly's long, loosely braided hair was billowing in the wind. She saw the cold fire in his eyes, saw the all-consuming fire of aggression in those magnificent eyes that were so familiar and so strange at the same time. She saw how much he wanted to kill her. There was a beast inside him. It scared her to death.   
“No”, she said again, trying to sound calm and confident.   
She never let go of his eyes. Something primal inside her told her this was essential. 

After a painful eternity, Khan let out a breath and let go of her, taking a big step backwards. His chest was heaving, as was hers.   
It was easier to look him in the eyes now that there was some distance between them again.   
After she rubbed her throat yet again, Molly straightened, holding her head high.   
“If you want information, you'll have to treat me with respect. I deserve this. You of all people should know. Good night...And I will never be yours, Khan!”  
With her heart beating in her throat she left him standing frozen to the spot and walked around him to go back inside. After the heavy door fell close, Molly ran.   
Back in her cabin – needing many seconds to push that bloody metal door close – Molly fell on her bed and cried for the first time since she had been kidnapped. All the energy had been drawn in her encounter with Khan and she felt weak and helpless and whispered Sherlock's name over and over again.   
If he would only come and rescue her already.   
She didn't want to spend another damned day trapped on this ship with this violent, dangerous man.

Maybe Mycroft was right, after all, and there really was no hope left for the youngest Holmes.


	5. Program Augment

With his arms crossed behind his back and his eyes closed, Khan was standing at the fore of the Adelheid Berge. Serenity was painted on his face as he stood there, the wind caressing his cheeks and playing with the strands of his brown hair. They would be tamed again later, those curls. He despised them, for they made him look even more like his two minutes older brother.   
Khan shook of the thoughts of his family by taking a deep breath. The wind carried the taste of the sea and the Commander licked his lips.   
Now, the next unwanted picture popped up in his racing mind and Khan clenched his jaw. His nose twitched as he still felt Dr. Hooper's saliva on his skin. 

Impertinent woman!

How did she dare? He was a superior human being, able to snap her neck with a twitch of his fingers. He was a killer, he had killed and he would kill again. She had nown all this and yet she had dared to spit in his face. 

...Reckless woman.

Her eyes. Even though her body had been shaking with fear when he had pinned her against the railing, hand on her throat, her eyes had shown nothing but strength. The will to fight. The will to live.   
There was a prickling sensation in his neck as he thought about this strength. 

...Odd woman.

So ordinary on the outside. Petite, fragile figure. Containing a lioness. A woman who would protect herself at all cost. Fighting to the end. He could test that will of hers, of course. It might be fun. It definitely would pass the time. They still had one week at sea and there was nothing left to do. He had it all planned out. The plan had been set in motion. Picking up his crew, his fierce men and women, group by group, scattered across the globe. And when they had been unite again, all 74 people left of his original crew of a hundred men and women, they would challenge every government of this planet, starting with the British Empire. His brother would be the first to fall and Khan couldn't wait for this glorious moment when Mycroft would kneel in front of him, the arrogance wiped off his face, replaced with fear.   
Oh, he would beg. Khan could already hear his cracking voice. It was like music in his ears. A music which caused Khan to smile. That was until the sound of his crying mother echoed through his mind.   
A frown was corrupting his serene features now as he saw his weeping mother, holding both her dead sons in her arms. The elimination of her bloodline would destroy her for sure. And it would forever rip the bond, which had been so strong between them once upon a time, apart.   
Khan took another deep breath, filling his lungs with sea breeze. He was focusing on the waves now, clashing against the metal hulk of the mighty ship, ignoring the heavy feeling in his chest.   
It had to be done, he reminded himself. Otherwise they would never be safe. He had to destroy his old family in order to protect his new family. He had stopped being a Holmes ten years ago when his oldest brother had signed him up for 'Program Augment'. He was a Singh. Head of a family consisting of 74 remaining family members.   
He was Khan.

“Such dark thoughts so early this morning, brother?”  
Lance stepped up next to him. Even though Khan's eyes were still close, he felt the strong presence of his First Officer and bodyguard. Of course Khan didn't need a bodyguard, but Lance had insisted after they had freed themselves and Khan had given orders to split up into small groups and run. He had been annoyed and angry at being disobeyed back then, but in retrospect, he was glad that lance had been with him through this time.   
This freedom, as craved as it had been, was also difficult. All of them had been programmed to obey. They had been designed to follow orders. But Khan couldn't do this. Now he was the one giving orders. He had to plot instead of assisting to improve and execute an existing plot.   
He had been meant to be a weapon. Now he was the finger pulling the trigger.   
Khan had been shaken to the core of his new existence as how troublesome it was to fulfill this role.   
It felt wrong.  
Every minute, every second, his insides screamed that it was. There wasn't one moment in which his own mind wasn't fighting itself.   
After three months of freedom, Khan could feel the first signs of fatigue. He longed for a moment of submission, longed to be allowed to fulfill his forced-upon role and just obey someone stronger than himself. Just for one, bittersweet moment.   
The facts were cruel: There was only one man. One man who could beat him. And when Mycroft was dead, there would be no one...  
NO!  
No, his mind screamed in protest. He wasn't meant to obey. He wasn't one of those dogs. He was a free man! He was a strong man! He was the strongest one! He could fight this inhuman programming! He would overcome! And he would lead his people to freedom and prosperity! Never would he surrender to his brother's cruelty! Never!  
“Ah, I see. Your brother is poisoning your thoughts again”, Lance observed.   
Now Khan did open his eyes. Lance humorous smile never failed to lift his spirits.   
“There is a crinkle in the bridge of your nose every time you think of him.”  
Khan pulled his lips up into a crooked smile.   
“If I didn't know any better I'd think you observe me a bit too closely, brother.”  
“Oh, don't flatter yourself. Even though you might have high, very elegant cheekbones in your favour, I very much prefer the company of the ladies.”  
Khan snorted.   
“Speaking of which,” Lance continued and Khan visibly stiffened, “what happened between you and the good doctor?”  
Khan looked at the sun at the horizon, slowly beginning her ascend to the sky, tinting the sea and the sky in a deep orange.   
“She obviously told you.”  
“Didn't say a word. In fact, she was trying to hide the purple marks you left on her lovely throat.”  
Khan fought the urge to close his eyes. The serene beauty of the sunrise didn't match the violent memories replaying in his mind.  
“Khan”, Lance tried in a softer tone of voice when his Commander remained silent. When he still refused to reply, Lance turned to face him.   
“You have to do something about this.”  
“No.”  
“Khan.”  
“I said no.”  
Icy blue eyes stared at the black ones. Khan should have known by now that Lance wasn't afraid of his angry glares.   
“Do you think I can't see your suffering? Because I can, brother. We are connected by blood and mind, in case you don't remember. Your burden is echoing within me.”  
“You chose to come with me”, Khan reminded him angrily and turned away from the peaceful sunrise.  
“Yes, to protect and consult you, if necessary. And it is necessary now. You will break the chains we are all trapped in, brother, we all are sure of it. But you can't do so within a few months. It will be a long, painful process. You have to take one step after another. Not all at once.”  
“I don't know what you are talking about”, Khan reciprocated icily and turned to leave.  
“You need a woman, Khan. You need release.”  
Release.  
Yet another cruelty of his brother. The man who valued nothing greater than the power of the mind had manipulated their primal instinct of procreation. As Khan had found out during the study of the files on 'Program Augment', the first experiments were failures. While the subject gained supreme intellect and strength, their minds were driven to insanity within a month. According to Mycroft's personal notes, they simply had been too perfect. As it had turned out, human nature wasn't meant to gain perfection. When there was nothing left to achieve, no beast to fight, the human mind crumbled.  
Balance was the key. There has to be balance in life, in nature and in the human mind, was Mycroft's conclusion. And his solution was a flaw. A flaw that seemed tiny, easy to overcome, when in fact it was as strong as it could be. It weakened the next generation of Augments. It was a weakness, yes, but also a way of control: An enhanced sex drive.  
Enhanced to the extent of torture. If an Augment didn't mate, the aggression level rose to a critical point. Slowly, the Augment lost control over his mind, until he found a partner to mate with.   
It was ridiculous.   
But Khan had to admit, a clever and easy method of control. The plan had been that after each mission in the name of kingdom and peace, the Augments would come back at the promise of various sex partners to chose from.   
Khan had seen the long list of names. 230 people only having one purpose.  
Khan had no idea how that list had been created, if those people had known what their task would have been and if they had done, if they had entered their names on their own account or against their will. He knew very well that Mycroft was capable of accepting both.   
“I can manage”, Khan hissed.   
“No, you can't. Go to her. I know she is attracted to you...if she'll still have you after what you've done.”  
“Doubtable.”  
“Then promise to find a woman when we reach Adelaide.”  
Khan sighed.   
“Fine.”  
“Good. And for heaven's sake, wank it off tonight. You're insufferable.”  
Khan burst out in a short laughter and shook his head before he went back inside the ship. The sun had risen during their conversation, so it was time he took his place on the bridge and start the day.


	6. Lance investigating

"What happened?" Lance asked in the afternoon of the same day, drinking tea and nibbling biscuits in Molly's new cabin. It had been the Captain's up until this morning when Khan had all of a sudden barked orders to give the spacious suite to the doctor. The Captain had been outraged, of course, but there was nothing he could have done.  
So there they were, sitting at the table in the living room of the two room suite. The good doctor was trying to hide the blue marks Khan's fingers had left on her skin by wearing her hair down, but she had forgotten to do so when Lanced had picked her up for her morning business at 5.30pm.  
They had fallen in an easy routine in such a short period of time. Molly had lost her shyness to ask and Lance had accepted the fact that Dr. Molly Hooper had the bladder of a four-year-old.  
"I thought you were going to ask him", the pathologist retorted whilst refilling both their cups.  
"Hasn't answered me, so all I only know it must have been pretty bad."  
Molly only grimaced before she sipped her hot tea.  
"Look, Doctor, I can't protect you if you don't tell me what happened."  
"Protect me? You're the one holding me hostage."  
"Technically, that's Khan, but I I get your point. Don't get me wrong, my loyalty was, is, and will be with Khan and if he'd order me to kill you, I'd do it."  
"Great, thanks", Molly interjected sarcastically.  
"But I like you and I don't want you to suffer unnecessarily."  
"This didn't sound as reassuring as you might think", Molly commented and reached for her cup. Lance chuckled before he continued.  
"I can protect you by advising you how to deal with your captivity, which includes Khan."  
"So you'd tell me how to poison him?" she joked.  
"I'm afraid poison won't do the trick. We have been designed to withstand any kind of known drug or poison."  
"So you can't get drunk?"  
"No."  
"Huh."  
"What?" Lance inquired with a raised eyebrow.  
"Nothing. Just thought that a little drink might help him to loosen up. He could certainly use a little relaxation. Or a lot."  
"Funny you should mention this. I said the same thing to him this morning."  
"So you're telling me he isn't like this all the time?"  
Lance chuckled. "No. In fact, if he's not trying to save the people he loves he's quite...approachable."  
Molly set down her cup and sighed.  
"I wish you could stop making hints and just tell me what exactly is happening."  
"The less you know..."  
"Oh, shut it."  
Molly rolled her eyes in annoyance and leaned back in her seat, looking out of the big window at the open sea. She had missed to call whether it was day and night. And, she had to admit, the view wasn't that bad.  
Lance looked at her, contemplating. He came to the conclusion that there was no harm in trying.  
"You know, I suggested a way to relax for Khan."  
Molly returned her attention to the black man and reached for her tea cup.  
"And what would that be? There's not much you can do around here. No people to kidnap and all."  
He barked out a laugh.  
"Good one. No, I suggested a much more pleasant way to clear his head for a while. Sex."  
Molly squirted the tea she had been drinking across the table. She was coughing hard as she put down the cup and reached for her napkin to wipe her chin.  
"What?" she choked out.  
Lance grinned.  
"Why would you tell me this?"  
"To see your reaction, of course."  
Molly crinkled her nose, trying to look confused while a familiar heat crept up her cheeks.  
"Why?"  
"Oh, you know very well why, Doctor."  
Seeing his face, Molly cleared her throat, then tried on her most intimidating glare.  
"If this is your way of telling me that I will be forced to have sex with my captor, then..."  
"Oh no, nothing of the sort. Khan is way too proud to force himself on to you."  
"But you think it's okay to force a woman to have sex with you?"  
"What?" Lance called out, appalled, "No! Of course not! Look at me. I don't have trouble finding women joining me in bed. Even more than one at times."  
"Thanks for this mental picture."  
"You're welcome."  
Lance grinned. She couldn't help a little laugh.  
"You're impossible."  
"But the suggestion is not."  
Molly fought the blush on her cheeks – and was losing.  
"Yes, it is! How can you ask me this?! To actively seek to get into his bed! He has kidnapped me! He is holding me hostage for 16 days now. And yesterday he strangled me, as you can see on my throat. He would have killed me hadn't I stopped him. He was furious. He scared the bejeezus out of me!"  
Lance straightened.  
"Wait a minute. What do you mean, you stopped him? How did you stop him?"  
"I told him to", Molly replied, confused by Lance's sudden change in mood. He leaned forward in his chair, looking straight into her eyes.  
"Are you saying that, even while he was enraged and had you by the throat, a word from you made him let you go?"  
"Yes."  
His eyes hurried from side to side and his brows were pulled into a frown while he was analyzing the meaning of this new information.  
"He obeyed you", he finally murmured.  
"Pardon?"  
"Nothing. Excuse me."  
Without wasting another second, Lance shot out of his chair and left the room with long strides, leaving a baffled Molly behind.  
"What did I say?"  
Molly sighed and let herself fall onto the big, very comfortable mattress. She stretched out her arms and closed her eyes. This wonderful spacious bed would be hers for the rest of the journey. From now on, falling asleep wouldn't be troublesome anymore. One thing less to worry about.  
Molly turned her head to the side and watched her hand slide over the soft blue coverlet, a smile on her face, when all of a sudden the mental picture of a naked, disheveled Khan lying next to her under the covers invaded her mind. Letting out a frustrating groan, she quickly turned her head to the side and tried to shake off the disturbing image.  
…  
He was still there. She could feel his warmth and his weight making the mattress yield. A move of her finger and she'd touch him...  
Damn it!  
She aggressively scolded herself and shook her head. She really must be losing her mind to even consider Lance's suggestion. The man she was fantasizing about was a murderer and she had been close to being his next victim just yesterday, for heaven's sake! He was dangerous! And he definitely was unstable...or at least had an anger management issue. And to top it all off, he was Sherlock's twin brother!  
Sherlock...  
Molly missed him. She missed Bart's and her home and Toby. Even though she hadn't mentioned him during their call, she knew Sherlock was taking care of him. They were quite fond of each other, even though they refused to admit it. But during several nights when Sherlock had had waltzed into her flat and had claimed her couch for reasons unknown, she had caught them play with each other or Toby curling up on Sherlock's belly more than once.  
Molly wiped away the tear that had escaped her lashes. She was so tired of this. She wanted to go home. She wanted to return to her old life.  
~oOo~  
"A word with you, Commander?"  
Khan let out a disgruntled sigh. So she had finally told him. Curse this woman for making his life more complicated.  
"I'm not discussing this with you, Lance."  
Khan nodded to the Captain and handed him the note pad, ignoring the hate-filled glare he earned from the man. This minion was less a danger than the doctor.  
"Believe me, I'd prefer if you'd talk to Anjali, too, but she's not here, so we don't have a choice."  
Anjali Putar, 27, doctor in psychology and internal medicine. His chief medical officer. Things would be a lot easier if she'd be here, indeed. But she wasn't, so Khan had to handle this on his own.  
"It's only six more days, Lance. I can handle it."  
Lance crossed the distance between them.  
"I think we should take her with us. I think she is exactly what you need."  
Khan shot a glance at the Captain, noticing his widening eyes. Clenching his jaw, Khan ordered Lance to follow him outside with a nod.  
"Don't talk about this in front of the staff", Khan snapped angrily the minute they had stepped on deck. Lance just waved it off.  
"We'll dispose of him, so what does it matter?"  
Khan glared at him, but Lance chose to ignore it.  
"She is the one, Khan! She is the solution!" he pressed.  
"Don't be ridiculous!" Khan replied appalled. "She is ordinary!"  
"Only at first sight. I've spent time with her. She's clever. She's strong. But she is also warm and kind, compassionate and calm. If we tell her what happened, she might come with us."  
Khan clenched his jaw and started pacing. Lance noticed the glint in his Commander's eyes.  
"This is a military operation, not a holiday."  
"I will protect her."  
"I thought you're here for my protection", Khan shot back sarcastically.  
"By keeping her safe, I'll keep you safe. It's a two-for-one-deal."  
Khan's muscles flexed. Anger was boiling inside of him.  
"I don't need a woman to stay sane! I am supreme! I will conquer my demons on my own!"  
"Khan, just listened..."  
"No!"  
The Commander whirled around and Lance froze in his spot. He saw the slight shake in Khan's hands, the stiffness in his back, shoulders and neck. His jaw was clenched and his nostrils were flaring.  
Lance felt a pang in his heart. He could see the pain and conflict inside his brother, and saw how desperately he was trying to control it. Lance could also see that he was failing.  
Quickly, he straightened and saluted.  
"Yes, Commander."  
Slowly, Khan relaxed. He nodded and had already passed by Lance when he heard his first Officer's voice cut through the air.  
"Ask permission to take her as a lover, Commander."  
Not two seconds passed before a kick in the hollow of his knees brought him down and an arm was slung around his throat, pressing. Lance fought his natural instinct to fight and held perfectly still while Khan was suffocating him.  
He was well aware of the risk he had taken with this question. But he had to know, had to know how Khan truly felt about the doctor, how strong the rage in him had become.  
Lance never ceased to believe in his Commander, and he didn't do so now, even though he was currently strangling life out of him. He knew Khan could beat his manipulated instincts.  
...He just wished he did so a little sooner, for he certainly was feeling dizzy by now.  
Finally, Khan released him with a growl and Lance fell forward on his hands, sucking in the air hungrily. He squeezed his eyes together to clear his vision before he turned around to look up at Khan. The Commander stood over him, offering him his hand. Lance saw the pain in his blue eyes when he took it.  
They stood next to each other, their hands still slung around each other's wrists.  
"You will still away from her", Khan said in a calm, very low voice, his jaw clenching repeatedly. It sounded threatening and pleading at the same time.  
"Of course, Sir."  
Khan glanced at his friend, then let out a breath. His posture relaxed a little.  
"I will seek female company once we've landed."  
Lance gave him a relieved nod. "Very well, Sir."  
With a friendly clap on a shoulder, Khan let go of his Second in command. Lance had already turned to leave when he heard his Commander's melodic voice over his shoulder.  
"Lance...make sure I don't see her until we are at shore."  
What a development, Lance thought as he confirmed Khan's request and walked away. Within a couple of weeks and only a few moments together, their hostage, a tiny woman with big brown eyes, had managed to bring his Commander's insides in uproar. Just imagine the things she could do to him once he'd surrendered to her...  
Lance saw great potential in a connection between Khan and the doctor, but he also knew that Molly was in danger should he choose to disobey his Commander. Khan was fighting his instincts, ergo his attraction to her. That's why he had attacked her. He had wanted to eliminate the confusion and the wish for obedience she caused in him.  
No, he wouldn't disobey his Commander, Lance concluded as he stepped into the ship. There was no use in trying to match them when Khan was fighting it. And Molly, for that matter. She too was fighting the attraction that was written all over her face when she saw him. Better to not cause anymore problems, Lance decided. They had enough trouble as it was.


	7. The harbour of Adelaide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Adelheid Berge reaches its destination and Molly will be free...won't she?

As ordered, Lance kept Molly out of Khan's sight. The regular visits on deck were canceled, now she was only allowed to step out when Lance was sure Khan was nowhere near the bridge. Of course, Molly complained and demanded a reason for this change, but Lance simply refused to explain, thinking it would be best for all of them.   
So, six days passed without further drama on the Adelheid Berge and Khan and Molly didn't see each other. Which didn't mean they weren't thinking of one another. But thinking about the other turned out to be a lot easier than actually having to deal with each another. 

At dusk, the Adelheid Berge finally reached the haven of Adelaide, Australia. The sky and sea were still painted with orange. It was autumn here, so the morning air was cold around them.   
The landing bridge was descending while Molly stood on deck, wearing her own clothes and her bag slung around her shoulder. The cool breeze tore at her ponytail and she shivered as the wind sneaked under her cardigan. The only source of warmth was currently coming from the big hand of Lance, which was wrapped around her upper arm at the moment. His grasp wasn’t too firm, it was more of a reminder that she wasn’t free to go, yet.   
Finally, this nightmare would be over. They would leave her in the harbor, Lance had explained, but she wasn’t worried about this. As soon as they were gone, she would call Sherlock. Luckily, she had memorized his number a long time ago. Unfortunately, her mobile was a write-off. It was still sticking to the wall behind the bookshelf in Khan’s cabin and would stay there until someone would redecorate. She made a mental note to herself to block her SIM-card asap when she got home. Home…  
Her eyes drifted up to the man’s back in front of her, his broad shoulders blocking most of the view. She would never see him again, this violent man, looking so much like Sherlock but being so different.   
They might share a face, Molly thought as Khan shifted and she could look at his profile, her eyes wandering over the high cheekbone, the strong nose and the lush lips, but their personalities drift apart. Both of them are haunted, both of them are looking for their own bit of freedom in this world. But their definition of freedom couldn’t be more different. Both of them are clever to the extent of being tortured at the costs of a great intellect. Yet, Khan seems to have a better understanding of social structures and habits. He understands them and uses them to his advantage. So does Sherlock at times, but he has learned where to stop.   
Molly flattered herself in thinking that she had something to do with his evolution. Khan on the other hand didn’t know…no, Molly interrupted her own train of thoughts, her eyes wandering down to his hands; he knew exactly where the line was, but he intentionally chose to cross it. He had no moral affliction when it came to violence. A part of her even thought he enjoyed giving into it.   
When he had held her by the throat that night, there had been a spark of fire in his eyes that had scared her to death. It still did.   
And yet, she couldn’t deny the attraction to him. A dark, very dark attraction to his superior strength and intelligence. Must be some primal, ancient instinct, Molly mused. 

“They’re here!”  
Khan’s excited voices ripped Molly out of her thoughts. She watched in astonishment as Khan looked over his shoulder to look at Lance with a smile that made butterflies flutter around in her belly.   
Damn him!  
Molly quickly averted her eyes and moved to the side so she could see the reason for Khan’s joy.   
A group of men and women came walking into their direction. Some of them were waving excitedly, their happiness visible in their smiles and vibrating bodies. Khan rose one strong arm in greeting and he, too, vibrated with relief and happiness. Molly was oddly fascinatied by this open display of emotions.  
“This is a great moment, brother. Come, let’s meet our family.”  
Without waiting for a reply, Khan hurried down the landing bridge. Molly looked up at a beaming Lance.   
“Oh, this is indeed wonderful. Look at him. It’s like the weight of the whole world has fallen off his shoulders. This is going to be a wonderful day, Doctor. A day you are going to see.”  
Even though Lance’s voice was light as air, Molly shivered.   
“So it hadn’t been decided, had it? If he lets me go or kill me.”  
“Khan is a moody man, in case you haven’t noticed.”  
“In fact, I have”, Molly replied and absentmindedly ran her fingers over the fading finger prints on her throat.   
“Oh, don’t dwell in the past. You’re going home! This is a happy day! Although I will miss our tea time”, Lance joked and guided her off the Adelheid Berge.  
“I will miss you, too. And I wish you well”, she added honestly.  
Lance looked at her. A warm smile adorned his handsome face and she had to remind herself that this was indeed a murderer.  
“I wish you the same, Doctor Hooper…Molly. You are a special little woman.”  
“Almost everyone’s little compared to you. Otherwise, thanks.”  
Lance laughed and turned his attention back to his people. Molly followed his gaze and watched how Khan reached his crew and embraced one of his men.   
Molly couldn’t stay unaffected by this display of relief and love. They gathered around him eagerly and Khan hugged every single one of his crew members. Molly counted thirteen men and twelve women. They laughed and praised their leader. She could only imagine what this moment meant to him.   
“Are these all of the survivors?”   
Lance and Molly were staying behind, even though she knew he was impatient to greet his family. He hesitated to answer her and she certainly was surprised when he did.   
“No, there are more. We had to split up the day we fled from the facility. We are scattered around the globe and will need a few more months to complete the reunion.”  
Molly nodded.   
“I guess a group of 74 superhumans might have drawn a bit of attention.”  
“Clever girl”, Lance winked before his eyes drifted back to his crew yet again.  
“Oh, just go to them. You're shifting like a little boy waiting to be allowed to open his Christmas presents. I promise not to move.”  
He bit his lip, looking back and forth between her and the group of people.   
“Seriously, what harm could I do? I don't have a machine gun I'll pull out of my bum. And even if I did, I'm one against 27! And one of them is Khan!”  
Lance grinned.   
“You're right. Doctor Molly Hooper, it has been an honor.”  
Quickly, he raised her hand to place a kiss on the back of it before he let her go. They smiled in parting and she couldn't help but giggle as she saw his overjoyed face before he turned around to run to his people. A Chinese woman, not much taller than herself, greeted him with open arms and he lifted her off her feet to whirl her around and kissed her on the cheek.   
It was so hard to believe that these people, so filled with joy and love, could be a threat to anyone. All Molly could see at the moment were men and women who had been through hell together and were finally reunited. One big, happy family.   
She was watching them with a smile on her face when a movement in the distance caught her attention.   
Car doors opened. Why hadn't she noticed all these big SUV's and trucks before? Maybe because they were parked behind other cars and had very neutral colors...  
The people exiting the cars were all wearing black. How odd.  
...Helmets! Bullet proof vests! Machine guns!  
The smile on Molly's face died.   
Everything slowed down around her.   
Only her heart was drumming like mad in her chest and her mind was racing.  
Mycroft's men.   
He had found them.  
Because of the name of the ship he had been told by Sherlock.  
Which he had been told by her.   
“Oh my God.”  
They would kill them. And she would be the reason why.   
Her eyes drifted back to the hugging group of people.   
They were dangerous, despite their smiles and laughter, Molly tried to convince herself. They had killed people.   
Murderers...  
All of them...  
All 27 men and women...  
Molly's eyes fell on Khan, hugging the small Chinese woman and then Lance. His eyes overflowing with heartfelt happiness. His smile so bright and warm and honest.   
Her heart cringed.   
Her eyes drifted back to the soldiers.   
They were approaching swiftly.   
And none of the superhumans noticed them.   
What was all their power for when they couldn't sense approaching danger?!  
Tears blurred her vision.   
She looked back again.   
So many weapons...

God forgive her. She just couldn't.

“KHAN!” 

His head turned around, his eyes searching her for just one second. Then blue, happy eyes met brown scared ones.   
The smile on his place was replaced with confusion...and then with realization.   
Frozen to the spot, Molly watched as Khan's head snapped around, his black hair tousled from the wind, his eyes widening and his body tensing as he finally saw the enemies.   
She felt so helpless as she stood there watching Khan shouting out a warning to his people, grabbing the nearest one and pulling him down.

And then, hell broke loose. 

The joyous morning was torn apart by angry gunfire and screams. Bullets whizzed through the air, missing their target, hitting their target.   
A line was formed. The attack was answered with grim hatred. People fell to the floor. And not just the one in the bullet proof vests.   
Within minutes, the asphalt was sprinkled with blood and bodies and Molly cowered on the ground, pressing her hands to her ears, staring at the brutal scene in front of her.   
Although Molly had seen much death in her life, this couldn't be compared to it. Death was peaceful, silent.   
This here, this was murder, loud and ugly and bestial and disgusting.   
They were tearing each other apart, the soldiers with their machine guns and the Augments with their bare hands.   
Out of nowhere, Lance was sprinting past her and threw himself in front of the Chinese woman, taking the bullet that had been meant for her. She screamed as they fell to the ground and Lance's motionless body buried her beneath it. She rolled him off of her like he weighed nothing and with an outcry lunged at their attackers.   
Lance was still lying on the ground. He wasn't moving.   
Seeing him like this, Molly's natural instinct to help others took over. It set her feet in motion and somehow, it managed to get her in the middle of the firing line, pulling Lance to safety.   
He was so bloody heavy.   
But he was moving.   
Slowly, but still.  
She could do this.   
He wouldn't die here. The man who had shown her kindness in these past weeks.   
She would save him.   
“Come one!” she yelled as the strength in her arms lessened.   
Unfortunately, this outcry managed to get the attention of a soldier. Molly was so caught up in tearing at Lance's way too heavy body that she didn't notice how he drew closer, pulling out an army knife.   
She only became aware when his shadow loomed over her and she looked up in horror.   
The light of the rising sun was reflected by the long blade of the knife, raised high above her head.   
She didn't even have the time to scream.  
The only thought her brain could scramble together was 'I'm going to die'.   
The knife swooshed down to her...  
...and was stopped in mid-air. 

Khan. 

Effortlessly, he broke the soldiers hand. Ignoring the man's outcry, he twisted the knife around in his hand and rammed it into his throat.   
It was done within a second.   
Molly was convinced she felt the impact when the soldier crashed to the ground.   
Their eyes locked as he gurgled with blood that was spilling out of his mouth. In horror she watched this man die, saw the light of life leaving his grey eyes within seconds until it was gone and the body relaxed.   
Now, Molly screamed. It was too much for her to bare. With desperation on her face she looked up at Khan, this strong, violent monster who had just killed this man right in front of her eyes without a second of hesitation or moral conflict.  
His chest was heaving, his hair was falling into his pale face, the hot breath being puffed out of his parted lips visible in the cold air. Due to his pumped muscles, the fabric of his black shirt and pants was straining. Clothes she had slept in...  
He was so beautiful. Beautiful and strong and dangerous, like a panther in the jungle.   
A mindless, beautiful beast.  
...No, not mindless.   
There was fear in his widened eyes. Fear for the ones he loved. He loved them so much...  
The beast was capable of love.   
“Retreat! To the boat!”  
His voice was a loud bark, so full of strength in the middle of this mess of brutality and despair.   
He was so strong.   
And she needed this strength now more than anything.   
She couldn't keep her eyes off him while he waved over some men to carry Lance away.   
In her shocked state she had her hands clawed in Lance's chest and was unable to let go when the men told her to.   
Khan looked at her then and a jolt shot through her body.   
For a moment she thought his eyes would soften.  
He knelt down beside her and she breathed in his musky sweat. She flinched when his hot hands touched hers to pull them off Lance's chest.   
Finally, the men were able to lift Lance off the ground and Khan pulled Molly to her feet. She was overly aware that he held her hands in his.   
But then he let go to help the others and Molly was left alone in this mess, the gunfire focusing on a massive white yacht they were all running to now. The deafening noises of the machine guns sent her crouching on the ground again and her eyes hurried around to find a way out of this hell.   
Just when panic was about to take a hold of her, her eyes caught sight of something so beautiful she wanted to cry.   
Sherlock!  
It really was him!   
His coat and scarf, the boyant black curls.  
Molly's heart wanted to burst with joy and relief.   
It would be over now.   
He would take her home and all these weeks and especially these last horrific minutes would be nothing but a nightmare.

Sherlock was running towards the battlefield, shouting at the soldiers to cease fire. His eyes were wide and scanning desperately, looking for her, no doubt. Molly shot up from her crouching position, all the fear and danger forgotten, and started running.   
His eyes found her a second later and he immediately sprinted towards her. Her heart was aching from all the feelings that flooded her. There was a laugh gurgling at the top of her.   
But then she had to see how his eyes widened in fear and a second later, the wind was knocked out of her when she was stopped mid-run by an arm snaking around her middle. She was lifted off her feet and her back crashed against a hard chest.   
“NO!”  
Kicking and screaming in agony, she fought Khan with all she got. And yet she was dragged away from Sherlock and away from home and safety.  
“Let me go!” she screamed hysterically, her desperation turning into a never felt fury. Her fingernails scratched over his hands and her feet kicked the air. Khan didn't slow down at all.  
“Sherlock!” she screamed helplessly and reached out her hand to him in desperation.   
“Molly!”  
His voice. So desperate. So frightened.   
Molly felt sick. Tears were streaming down her face and hysteria was about to overpower her, causing her to scream again and again.   
“Let me go!” she sobbed, “Please, please let me go! Please!”  
Her whole body was aching and all she wanted to do was to crawl out of her skin. She just couldn't take it, to be separated from Sherlock once again. Not again. Please God, end this nightmare!  
Molly screamed again when Sherlock was caught by two of the soldiers, stopping him from coming to her aid.   
The agonizing feeling of defeat spread inside her as she watched him struggle, freeing himself only to be caught not a second later.   
This was it. She would never see him again. Khan would take her away, never to be free again.   
“I love you! I love you!” she heard herself shout, the worlds just falling from her lips.   
She couldn't die without letting him know, without telling him at least once.   
Sherlock cried out, struggling furiously to get free. He failed.   
“I will find you! I will find you, Molly! Always!”  
Molly sobbed. Her whole body was shaking.   
“Always”, she whispered helplessly, staring at the man she had loved for years while she was being dragged aboard of yet another ship.   
As soon as they stood on deck, Khan's hand wrapped around her slender throat and a moment later, a gun was pressed against her temple.   
“MYCROFT!”  
Khan's bark drowned out all the noise. The gunfire ceased. Seconds later, a car door was pushed open and out stepped the eldest Holmes' brother, wearing a grey suit and a grim expression. Two soldiers were at his side instantly, shielding him.   
Mycroft's eyes focused on his youngest brother and Molly felt a jolt run through Khan's hot body, which was pressed against her back.  
“If you or any of your henchmen are coming after us, I will kill her!”   
Khan clarified his point by pressing the gun painfully against her head.   
Molly whimpered.   
Sherlock struggled.   
It helped looking at him. Seeing his blue eyes looking back at her. It kept her on her feet.   
“Go ahead then!”  
The icy chill of Mycroft's voice cut through the morning air.   
“NO!” Sherlock yelled and once again tried to free himself, an expression of pure fear on his face.   
“Kill this innocent woman”, Mycroft continued, his eyes merciless, “and with this enable me to unleash hell upon you!”  
Silence. Even the seagulls had stopped squawking.  
“There is no place where you can run where I won't find you, brother dear! Sooner or later my people will find the hole you and the other failed experiments have crawled into. This is all what you lot are: A failed experiment. A mess that needs to be cleaned up. So, go ahead! Kill Doctor Hooper and deliver the final proof! It would make my day!”  
“NO! Stop this, stop this now, Mycroft!” Sherlock shouted out in desperation and his head snapped around to his twin brother. “Please, Khan! Don't kill her! Let her go! She has nothing to do with this! PLEASE!”  
Khan's grip around Molly tightened.   
“If you want to see her again, Sherlock,” Khan snarled, “you will convince Mycroft to stop following us. And if you fail...” Khan's hand wrapped around her ponytail and yanked it back. Molly yelped. “...I will sent her back to you piece by piece!”  
She didn't have the time to panic over this threat. A blow to her head knocked her unconscious.   
She missed how Khan pointed his gun and shot, the bullet ripping through the throat of one of the soldiers standing in front of Mycroft.  
The last thing she saw was the clear morning sky of Adelaide, the pale blue colour so similar to the unique colour of the Holmes' twins eyes.


	8. Calculation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft and Sherlock talk about the recent events and plan their next moves. A lot of accusations and chillyness.

“How did it go?”

Mycroft was greeted by Anthea as soon as he stepped through the door of the elevator on the second floor of the British embassy in Adelaide. She was carrying his laptop and a few papers for him to sign. He took them and hurried over them as they walked to his temporary office.

“Not as expected.”

“So he got away?”

“Yes.”

“What about the doctor?”

“Still with him.”

There was a short pause.

“How is Sherlock dealing with it?”

“How do you think?”

They shared a knowing look. Anthea opened the door to the office and let Mycroft step in first. He had just reached the desk when the door was thrown open again and Sherlock stormed in, his coat billowing behind him and his eyes blazing. Mycroft was still in mid-turn to face him when Sherlock already pulled back his arm to throw a punch at him.

A swoosh of air hit him when his younger brother's hand was stopped right in front of his face. Sherlock yelped as his ring finger was bent violently and his arm was twisted onto his back by the small secretary standing next to him. With gritted teeth Sherlock glared at his brother, who returned his look with superior indifference.

“This is all your fault! You bloody arsehole! Let me go, Anthea, and I'll free us both from his cruelty!”

Instead of letting him go, Anthea fisted his black locks into her hand and pulled roughly to drag him away from her employer. Sherlock hissed, tears stinging in his eyes. Not solely from the physical pain.

It was this helpless feeling of defeat that made him lose control. He could still hear her scream for him, he still saw her reaching out for him to help her.

He had let her down.

She had needed him and he had failed to save her because he had been too weak, just as weak as he was now, unable to get out of Anthea's grasp to punch his cold, heartless brother.

“Enough!”

The booming sound of Mycroft's usually calm voice was enough to freeze both Anthea and the struggling Sherlock. A look from the elder Holmes made Anthea let go of Sherlock instantly.

“Look at you, Sherlock. You're behaving like a fool. Your display of emotion is what brought us here. Your begging was what made him take her.”

Mycroft narrowed his eyes when he saw realisation dawning on his brothers face.

“Reverse psychology.”

“Oldest technique in the book.”

The brothers stared at each other for a long moment. Then Sherlock began pacing.

“He'll know what I've done. If he managed to get a hold of one of the weapons, he'll know.”

He stopped and turned to look at his brother, fear in his eyes.

In his gravest hours, Sherlock had always turned to his brother. Even if they didn't get along, his older brother had always been this fixed point in his life, a star in the darkest night to navigate by. Mycroft always knew what to do...and did what had to be done.

He was the smart one.

At least right now, when Sherlock could not trust himself, his emotions spinning out of control.

“It will be no problem to find them again”, Mycroft began, rounding the desk and finally sitting down. He opened his laptop and opened various files.

“He will try to get on another boat, so we'll monitor any bigger boat and yacht leaving the harbours if Australia, Indonesia and New Zealand. The problem will be to catch them...”

“No!” Sherlock protested, “you've heard him. He will hurt her as soon as he finds out we're coming for him. I'll go with John. It will be easier traveling with two instead of a whole squad. We'll follow him until he is reunited with the rest of his crew and catch him then.”

“And how do you plan to overwhelm 74 Augments, brother dear?” Mycroft asked mockingly, folding his hands.

“I'll think of something.”

Mycroft's lips thinned in anger.

“You want to talk to him.”

Sherlock didn't react, which was answer enough. Mycroft leaned back, tapping his fingers on the chestnut desk.

“The time for talking has passed, Sherlock. By helping me, you've betrayed him. That's how he will see it in his state of paranoid madness. You are the enemy now.”

Sherlock shook his head.

“We are brothers. I can...”

“Any bond you've had with this man has been cut years ago”, Mycroft interrupted him loudly. “You have to stop seeing him as a brother. He is Khan Noonien Singh now, enemy of the state.”

“How can you say that? The name he chose is proof that there is still hope. He took up the name he used when we played pirates when we were children!”

Mycroft's face lacked any emotion.

“Coincidence.”

“Bollocks!”

In a heartbeat, Sherlock stood in front of the desk, slammed his fists onto the wood with a bang and bent forward until his eyes were on the same level as Mycroft's.

“He is your brother! And everything he is now, he is because of you! You did this to him!”

For a moment Sherlock thought he saw some remorse cross his brother's face. He should have known better.

“We've had this discussion many times, Sherlock. I'm tired of repeating myself. What I did was what was best for our family. End of discussion.”

“If it would have been me, “Sherlock hissed angrily and saw Mycroft's eyes widen the slightest bit, “would your decisions have been the same?”

There was a heavy silence between the Holmes' brothers. Then Mycroft raised his head in this typical way of his and his eyes turned to ice.

“In retrospect, I should have chosen you. _You_ wouldn't have failed me.”

Sherlock sucked in some air. The knuckles on his hands were white. After one disgusted look at him, he straightened.

“He was right about you, after all.”

With that, Sherlock turned to leave.

“You can despise me all you want, little brother. If you want your doctor to live, you will have to work with me.”

“We've tried your way and failed”, Sherlock replied dryly and pulled out his mobile. “Now we'll try it my way. I'll text you the details.”

At the door, Sherlock turned one last time.

“If you do anything to endanger Molly...you and I are through.”

After the door fell close, silence fell upon the room. Mycroft would have retreated to his mind palace, if it hadn't been for the feeling of someone's eyes on him.

“Tell Matthew to put a team together. And Angela shall monitor the harbours.”

“What about Miss Hooper?” Anthea asked after a second.

“She'll be fine.”

Mycroft took a pen and a notepad out of the inside pocket of his grey suit jacket and started taking notes.

“Sir, she is a civilian...and practically your brother's girlfriend.”

“Which one?”

“Sorry?”

Mcroft took a deep breath. _A world full of goldfish._  
He put down the pen with utmost precision and settled his blue eyes on the woman who had been his assistant and his bodyguard for over eight years now.

“I was asking to which of my younger brothers you were referring to. For both of them have interest in Dr. Molly Hooper.”

He couldn't help but enjoy the confusion on Anthea's face. Showing off was one of his guilty pleasures. 

“What my brother hasn't seen, or chose not to see, is that his twin has saved the doctor's life...He has formed an attachment.”

He waited for her to make the connection, but her face remained blank.

“You know the details of the genetic reprogramming. I am sure you understand what this means.”

Ah, finally, there it was.

“You can't possible be sure that she is the one. It could have been a rest of loyalty to his brother. He knows how he feels about her.”

“I am sure.”

Anthea lowered her eyes. When Mycroft Holmes was sure of something, it was true. Mycroft Holmes was never wrong. Never. 

“This does not necessarily mean _she_ wants _him_. She definitely is in love with Sherlock.”

“Feelings are changeable. You of all people should know.”

She sucked in some air. Her left middle finger automatically brushed over her now empty ring finger. It hadn't always been empty. 

“So, your hope is that they fall in love and she will make him surrender?”

He chuckled, ignoring the strain in her voice.

“Nothing so Hollywood. Love is unnecessary. They will enter a sexual relationship in about...two months, at most - which will throw them both into moral conflict. Miss Hooper for feeling she is betraying my brother after she had dramatically declared her love for him this morning, and Khan Singh for never being certain if she sees him or Sherlock when she...gives herself to him. In six months, Khan will have a meltdown. He will make a mistake. That's when we'll be coming for him and his people. And then we will end this failed experiment and leave 'Program Augment' to future generations.”

“And what about Molly?”

How desperate she was, trying to stir an emotion in him by using the doctor's first name. She should know better after all these years.

“Collateral damage. It happens.”

  
  


For a long while, neither of them spoke. Anthea stared at the floor. Mycroft catalogued the first hints of lines at the corner of her eyes. His heart skipped a beat when her bright blue eyes settled on him all of a sudden.

“You know, feelings, _love_ , doesn't just die. It is killed. Killed by coldness and indifference.”

His face lacked every expression as she gazed at him with old accusations, but his heart clenched painfully.  
The clicking sound of her heels etched through his brain as she left. 

Mycroft's left middle finger instinctively brushed along his now empty ring finger. It hadn't always been empty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, still no answer to what made Mycroft put Khan into Program Augment. There just hasn't been a reason for either of the brothers to bring it up. They know, they've talked about it countless of times. But don't worry, it will come up, even though there are already hints.   
> Furthermore, I hope you don't mind me hinting at Mythea at the end. It just kind of wrote itself and I liked it, so I left it in. It won't be explored much, for I think we have enough at our hands with the Khanollylock triangle. Or would you like to read more of this?   
> And finally, I hope you're not too disappointed for the lack of Khanolly. I wanted to give you the opportunity to take a deep breath before we turn to them. It won't be pretty. *Buahahahahahahahaaaaa*


	9. The antidote

Strained voices stirred Molly from her forced upon sleep. A roaring headache greeted her as she slowly regained consciousness. With a moan she reached up to touch the spot where the pain had gathered and hissed as she felt the big bump at the back of her head. She opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was the polished eggshell ceiling. Carefully, she turned her head, becoming aware of her surroundings. She was lying on a long brown leather couch in the luxurious lounge of a yacht, the clear blue sky visible through the long windows. The interior was mostly dark colours, dark wood on the walls and the floor, dark furniture (was that a bar separating the lounge from a dining room?), only lightened up with white curtains, carpets and some decorative items Molly didn’t pay much attention to. Her focus was on the people she saw now, some of them still wearing the bright Hawaiian shirts.   
The events of the morning finally bubbled up to the surface of Molly’s mind and she closed her eyes in pain for a moment as Sherlock’s desperate face appeared in front of her. Her heart clenched. They were separated again, maybe for good this time. Tears were welling up inside her, but the urgent voices reminded her that now was not the right time to cry for what had been robbed from her.   
Lance’s limp body was what she remembered next and this made her sit up, her eyes darting around. So many people were lying on the ground, the various chairs and tables pushed against the wall to make room, moaning from pain or already drifted off into unconsciousness. It was a pitiful sight and even in her own misery, her heart ached as she watched their suffering, the unharmed men and women kneeling beside them, trying their best to help.   
Finally, Molly spotted the Asian Lance had saved. She was kneeling on the floor as well, pressing a towel against Lance's wound while she stroke his cheek, whispering to him. His eyes were closed.   
Molly pushed herself off the couch, burying her own problems, and stumbled over to Lance, kneeling down beside the woman.   
“How long has he been unconscious?” she asked, letting her professional eye look over him.   
“For almost an hour”, the woman replied and to Molly’s surprise instantly made space for her.   
“Has he gained consciousness in between?”  
Molly touched the blood soaked towel and the woman let go of it.   
“He stirred a few times, but never opened his eyes.”  
“Has it been the same with the others?”  
“Yes.”  
Just as Molly wanted to remove the towel to take a look at the wound, her arm was yanked backwards and she was pulled off her feet, flying through the air and slamming against the shiny wooden wall of the yacht.   
“You won’t lay a hand on him!”  
Angry blue eyes stared down at her.   
Khan.  
His face was furious as he held her wrist in a crushing grasp. For a second Molly thought he would break it.   
“Let go of me!” Molly shouted and tried to shove him away, her free hand pressed against his hard chest. She felt his strong, fast heartbeat underneath her fingers and she dug her nails into his skin, the wish to rip this heart out of him being overwhelming for a moment.   
Again, she saw Sherlock being held back by the soldier’s, his face so desperate and frightened.   
Khan was the reason why she wasn’t with him, why she wasn’t home in London, working her shift with Sherlock at the desk, running his own little experiments.   
Tears stung in her eyes as the longing for freedom and normality turned into to this day an unknown fury and when Khan yanked at her hair, her hand instinctively shot up and scratched across his cheek.   
Khan growled in surprise, let go of her and pressed a hand to his face. Molly glared at him as he removed his hand, looking at his bloody fingers. She had cut his skin, blood running out of the three scratch marks she had left his left cheekbone.   
Their gazes locked, fury in both of them.   
Molly’s heart was beating so hard against her chest she was panting. She was afraid of him, of course, standing so strong and tall and furious. But she would be damned if she would budge an inch and let him see her fear. She’d rather die.   
Just as she thought he would lunge at her again, two arms hooked into his and pulled him away.   
“KHAN!”   
It was the little Asian – little compared to Khan – who was pulling him backwards. Then she whirled him around, gripping his upper arms.  
“We are dying! We need her!”  
“She’s the reason for it all!” Khan spat and wanted to turn around, but the woman’s grip was tight.   
“You were the one who kidnapped her. Yet she tried to warn us. If it hadn’t been for her, we all would be dead now! You will leave her alone!”  
“You’re giving me orders?!”  
“Yes! If you are losing control, I have to. I’m the highest ranked member if my Commander fails to fulfil his duties. Are you failing, Commander?”  
A heavy silence fell upon the room. Even the moaning seemed to have stopped for a long, unbearable moment. Molly could only so much as guess what was happening now, but she understood it was a crucial moment for this group of genetically altered people. Khan’s position as leader of this group was on the line.   
She could hear him take a deep breath and when he looked up, his voice was calm.  
“I am Commander of this unit, Makoto. I am in full control of myself. Are you questioning me, Lieutenant?”  
It was as if the whole room let out a sigh of relief. Makoto let go of him at once.  
“Of course not, Commander.”  
She emphasized his rank and stepped back. Khan nodded.  
“Our people are dying, Commander”, Makoto continued, “and I am asking permission to allow Doctor Hooper to have a look at our men and women.”  
Khan stiffened at her name, but didn’t look at her. Still, Molly felt like all his focus was on her. Then he nodded.   
“Thank you, Commander”, Makoto breathed, obviously relieved, and her black eyes settled on Molly.   
“What is your field of expertise, Doctor?”  
Molly swallowed.  
“Forensic pathology.”  
“Can you help us?”  
“I don’t know. But I will try.”  
Makoto smiled thankfully and together they went back to kneel beside Lance. Molly could feel Khan’s tense presence and his stare when she finally lifted the towel off Lance’s wound. His shirt was sticking to the wound, so she carefully picked up the fabric and tried to rip it further so she could have a better look.   
“Allow me”, Makoto said calmly and took the shirt out of Molly’s bloody hands. Her hands were shaking, but she tore the fabric with ease.   
After this was done, Molly wiped away the blood pouring out of the wound and examined the entry wound. She instantly noticed that something was wrong and frowned.   
“What?” she heard Khan ask as he stepped forward.   
Molly was too focused to be bothered by him at the moment.  
“This entry wound…it’s too big. And he’s losing too much blood. It feels too thin. Is this normal?”  
Molly asked Makoto, whose eyes drifted up to her Commander. Without hesitation, Molly followed her gaze.   
Of course. Khan was bleeding at the moment. Apparently, no one of the other Augments had spilled blood yet.   
Molly rose to her feet, wiping her hands clean at her cardigan, forgetting that she wasn’t wearing a lab coat. She examined the scratch marks on Khan’s face, doing everything to avoid looking at his eyes.   
“The wounds have already closed and the marks are already fading. I don’t know anything about your abilities, but I assume advanced self-healing is a part of it. I am fairly sure that Lance’s wound shouldn’t look like this.”  
She didn’t look into his eyes when she spoke to Khan. So she missed the widening of his eyes.   
He whirled around and picked up one of the machine guns they had captured during the fight. Pulling out the magazine, he broke it with his bare hand and caught the left over bullets with the other. They were golden with a clear head, containing a red liquid, which almost looked like blood…  
…or exactly like it.   
“The antidote.”  
All kinds of emotions rushed through his system as he realized that his crew and himself had become vulnerable.   
“What?”  
“The antidote was a threat, nothing more!”  
“Impossible!”  
“All our blood samples have been destroyed!”  
Several voices spoke up, all of them tainted with fear. A fear that echoed within Khan. But he must be strong. Always be strong.   
“Doctor Hooper, with me.”  
He rushed out of the lounge, barely leaving Molly time to follow. She caught up with him as he climbed the stairs to the 3rd deck where his cabin was situated.   
He pushed the door open and went straight over to the lab station on the left side of his luxurious cabin and turned on several appliances and the laptop.   
“Wash your hands. Bathroom is through the door on the right, next to the painting.”  
He didn’t look at her, only heard her searching for the door which was disguised as part of the wall. She found it eventually, leaving several bloody hand prints on the shiny honey coloured wood panelling which he would clean up much later, and he listened to the water running while he emptied the red liquid onto a prepared slice.   
When she finally stepped next to him, he had already put the rest of the sample into his analysis machine, the progress visible on the screen of his laptop.   
“Take a look”, he said and nodded to the electron microscope.   
She sat down, still not looking into his eyes, and bent over, adjusting the lenses.   
Khan turned his back to her, closing his eyes. The hands on his back were gripping each other painfully tight.   
When Molly let out a gasp after what felt like eternity, his heart clenched.   
Et tu, Brute!  
   
Molly couldn’t at first fathom what she was seeing through the lenses. This double helix…it was different. There were slight abnormalities, elements missing, or shifted…Her eyes glanced to the laptop, waiting for the analysis to be complete. When it was done and all the information was visible, she gasped. All the information she had gathered, all the passing remarks suddenly made sense.   
She paled and the world stopped for a moment.   
Then she heard his footsteps and she bolted out of her seat, stepping in front of the screen.  
“It could be yours. It could be your blood”, she hurried to say, pressing her small hands on his broad chest to push him away from the laptop and the horrible truth.   
“I destroyed every blood sample there was”, he replied angrily, pushing against her hands.   
Tears welled up in her eyes as she used all the force she had.   
“He didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t know. He would never do something like this.”  
“Not even to save the woman he loves?”  
Both of them froze. Molly had his hands on his chest, his body heat seeping through his thin black shirt into her palms, the heartbeat beneath her fingers strong and quick paced. His eyes were wet, too, and she didn’t dare to imagine how he must feel now, the betrayal of his twin brother right in front of his eyes. Khan’s expression was blank though, the blue in his eyes gone paler than ever and his pupils being dilated.   
“Please”, she whispered helplessly, not knowing what else to say.   
Don’t let this come in between you. Don’t hate Sherlock. He’s your brother! Your twin brother!  
   
“Sherlock has made his choice”, Khan finally said, his eyes boring into hers, “he was the key to this weapon and he knew full well what it would do.”  
“What does it do? Why did they need Sherlock’s blood?”  
“Because it is the same as mine, Doctor Hooper.”  
“I don’t understand.”  
They were still standing close, Molly still touching him. They weren’t even aware. They were trapped in each other’s orbit. Somehow, they held onto it. Everything seemed different when they were close, like a bubble shielding them from reality.   
“Our genes were manipulated to be perfect, to withstand poison, disease, physical harm, ageing. We are smarter and stronger than anyone else on this planet. They created the perfect predators…predators they need to control. They installed some securities, but we managed to breech them and now we are running lose. When you can’t control the dragon, what do you do?”  
He paused and her eyes widened.  
“You kill it”, he spoke for her.   
“But we are perfect and normal bullets would be dissolved from our antibodies while our wounds are being healed. They would need a hell lot of bullets to kill one of us, and they want to kill 74. If they can’t kill us from outside, they must try from within. Destroy the evolution they have created. But in order to do so…”, he said and finally pushed her out of the way. Molly didn’t resist.  
“They need a sample from one of us. They recreate the Augment, only to insert a self-destruct-button.”  
“How? This doesn’t make any sense, Khan. Are you saying that Sherlock is an Augment, now?”  
“No. Mycroft wouldn’t allow it, even if Sherlock would have wanted to. ‘Project Augment’ is a failure. But he needed the genetic key to one of us to destroy us all.”  
“They could have reproduced it artificially. Surely they had your genetic specifics stored somewhere.”  
“’Had’ is the right tense in this case, Doctor Hooper. The facility and the server on which this information has been stored has been destroyed, together with the leading geneticists of the project.”  
“You killed them”, Molly gasped.   
Khan didn’t feel obliged to confirm.   
“How many people have you killed yet? And how many more do you plan on killing?” Molly asked, afraid of the answer.   
“I will kill everyone who stands between us and our freedom.”  
A tear escaped Molly’s lashes and Khan’s eyes followed its path down her pale cheek until it dropped on her soiled cardigan.  
“He was right about you”, she whispered, taking a few steps back, breaking through the electric field their closeness had created and back into reality, “you are a monster.”  
Khan straightened.   
“I am part of a race which is being faced with the threat of extinction. We are fighting for our lives. You would do the same.”  
“I would never become like you!”  
“Really?” he asked in amusement, “and what is this?”  
He pointed at his cheek, the marks she had left there barely visible any more.   
“You are just as violent as I am, doctor.”  
She shook her head, sniffing. No, she wasn’t like him. She wasn’t…  
“There would have been a way to erase the information without killing anyone. You claim to be the smartest person on this planet, but all I see is a trapped tiger who’s lashing out in fear. I can’t see evolution in you at all.”  
There was half of the room between them now as they looked at each other for a long moment.  
“So you will let us die?” he finally asked.   
“No. I’m not a murderer. I will do what I can to save you. It’s the right thing to do.”  
“Is it now?”  
Khan smiled at her; the only intention of this smile being humiliation.   
“Even if it causes the death of more people?”  
Molly swallowed hard. In the end, she lowered her eyes and remained silent.  
“Ah, morality. Isn’t it a pitiful conundrum? It doesn’t matter what you do, in the end, you won’t save anyone.”  
Her eyes darted back to him and she pushed out her chin.   
“This remains to be seen.”  
Khan’s smile died and his expression became unreadable again. Once again, he felt the urge, this mysterious pull towards her. How did she do it? Being so small and weak, her body lacking any physical strength, but at the same time evaporating such a strength?   
Ah yes, her eyes. These big, shining brown eyes that looked at him with such determination. Her strength was concentrated in her mind. Such a strong mind trapped in such a weak body...  
He took a deep breath, his blood heating up and a tingling sensation spreading in his hands. Even now, with his family in danger, he wanted to reach out for her...not sure if to hurt her or...  
“We are wasting time”, Molly interrupted his train of thoughts, her eyes dark, and Khan realized that she was standing at the desk again, crouched to be able to flee if the need arose. Khan's heart beat faster.   
Did she know what she did to him? Could she read him?  
“Yes”, he replied, his voice sounding cold.   
Crossing the distance between them, he pulled up the sleeve of his left arm.  
“We need to know what this antidote is capable of.”  
~oOo~  
The cold steel against her cheek felt somewhat reviving as Molly leaned against the fridge, standing in the professional kitchen of her swimming prison, and looked at its content, forcing her heavy eyelids to stay open.   
Water. She needed water.   
Her throat was dry as a desert. Seeing the many bottles of water made her happier than she had been in weeks. She took one and left the fridge door open as she hungrily drank.   
When you're really thirsty, there's nothing more delicious than still water.  
Molly closed her eyes as she tilted her head back and almost tipped over. Her grip on the handle of the fridge saved her from falling.   
Gosh, she was so damn tired. And she smelled. And her clothes were soiled with blood. And her skin was sticky from all the sweat that had poured out of her during these past 52 hours.   
But they were safe. She hadn't lost one of them. Molly managed a little triumphant smile.   
It might have been the greatest moment of her career. And it might cause the death of countless of other people.   
Her triumph tasted bitter on her tongue now and she tried to wash it down with more water.   
She closed her eyes and leaned against the fridge again.   
Sherlock...  
She wanted to go home. Now that it was over and the patients were stable, reality crashed down on her. She was trapped again, with people who had eyed her suspiciously or openly hostile while she had drawn their blood for the blood exchanges they were going to do. Not a permanent solution, but Khan and herself had come to the conclusion that this would have to do in this crucial situation. In the hour they had experimented on the antidote using Khan's blood, they had found out that a big amount of Augment blood could destroy the attacking antibodies. So Khan had gathered the unharmed crew members and together they had taken as much blood as possible.   
Oh, how they had stared at her, Molly thought bitterly, feeling the tears well up in her eyes as she remembered those grey eyes glaring at her openly, an angry voice snapping at her. Khan had interfered when this man, Georg was his name, had called her 'Holmes' whore'.   
Never had Molly been verbally attacked like this before. So...aggressively. It had shocked and frightened her, mostly because she hadn't spoken a word to this man before, not even looked at him, and yet he dared to speak to her like this, hated her so much.   
What kind of people was she dealing with? Was Mycroft right, after all? Were they too dangerous to be alive and free? Did she just make the worst mistake in her life?  
Sherlock!  
God, why couldn't he be with her? Better yet, why couldn't she be with him? Why did he have to kidnap her yet again, this bloody bastard?! Hadn't she suffered enough?! She had done nothing to deserve this! She had co-operated on the Adelheid Berge, hadn't she? Damn it, she had warned Khan when they had been about to be attacked! And this is how he thanked her?  
Fuck this! Fuck him! Fuck all of them!

With a sob, Molly fell to her knees and she made herself as small as possible, wrapping her arms around herself, the half drunk water spilling out on the white tiled floor of the kitchen.   
No more, she thought helplessly.   
She could bear no more...

Khan froze as a heartfelt sob greeted him when he reached the kitchen.   
For a long moment he just stood there rooted to the spot, listening to Doctor Molly Hooper crying.   
His jaw clenched. With every sob that fell from her lips, he felt dirtier.   
Khan Noonien Singh had committed many crimes these past few months fighting for his freedom and the safety of his family. He had manipulated people, had threatened them. He had tortured the men and women who had tortured him. He had murdered them. Khan had done all these things and he looked back at them without feeling nothing but satisfaction.  
But right now, standing in the little dark hallway, hearing this woman cry for all she's lost and had endured these past hours...  
Kidnapping Molly Hooper for the second time felt like his worst crime.   
She was innocent. She had nothing to do with this war. She was...good. The goodness poured out of her every pore. She had worked to exhaustion to save people she didn't know, some of them being openly hostile towards her, even.   
Khan gritted his teeth as he thought of Georg. This had been his fault, too. He had noticed the hostility in his crew towards the gentle doctor, but hadn't done anything about it. And then Georg had called her a whore and Khan had seen the horrified look in Molly's face and for a second an unknown kind of anger had flared up in him and he had hissed at his Crewman to shut it and leave.   
Thinking of it, Khan was still mad about this incident. Later, he would talk to Georg. This behaviour was unacceptable and he wouldn't tolerate it. Today, Molly Hooper had saved their lives. Today, Molly Hooper had proven that she was better than all of them.

Without causing a sound, Khan opened the swinging doors to the kitchen. He found Molly on the floor, balled up against the refrigerator, a plastic bottle spilling its content onto the white tiled floor.   
Her sobs had stopped but she was hugging her body closely, her arms wrapped around herself and the legs pulled up. Several strands had loosened from her ponytail and were falling into her face. Khan thought she was sleeping, so he knelt down in front of her. But as soon as he reached out to brush these strands away, Molly flinched and her eyes flew open. They widened for a second when she recognized him and Khan swallowed down the familiar taste of bitterness. No, it wasn't Sherlock kneeling in front of her.  
“You're tired.”  
Somewhere in the depths of Khan's mind, he kicked himself for this ridiculous statement.  
“I'm fine. Just needed a little water.”  
Ignoring his outstretched hand, she pulled herself to her feet. Khan watched how her knees shook and she steadied herself against the metal frame.   
“You can take a break now. My crew is stable. I can manage the rest.”  
“Is Lance awake?”  
“No.”  
“Then I better...”  
Khan placed a hand on her shoulder and both of them froze.   
It hit him like a brick wall: So far, his touch had only been violent. It was the first time he touched her without hurting her.   
The doctor was staring at his chest, unmoving under his hand. Khan's heartbeat paced up. The proximity to her was unsettling and made him feel his own exhaustion. The adrenaline was drained from his body and all he was left with was the worry and fear for his family.   
If only, Khan thought as his hand curled around this small, fragile shoulder, if only they had met under different circumstances...  
Brown eyes darted up to him, tired and yet strong and as adamant as ever.   
Inwardly, Khan sighed.   
If only...  
“I can't let you go near anyone in your state. You're exhausted, your body needs rest. You are not like us, Molly Hooper.”  
Molly slapped his hand off her shoulder. Khan's eyes widened in surprise.  
“Yes, I know I'm not like you! You and your lovely people have made that perfectly clear, thank you. No, I'm not a superhuman. I neither have a superior mind nor superior strength. All I am is me. Weak, silly little me. And yes, I know any of you could snap my neck with just a flick of two fingers. But you know what?”  
Molly took a step towards Khan, her eyes full of the fire that Khan dreaded most.   
“If it wasn't for me, half of your damned crew would be dead by now. So you can take all your predominance and put it up your arse, if the stick that's already in there has left any room, that is.”  
Molly glared up at him, her face pale and her eyes cast in dark shadows.   
Khan's lips curled up into a smile and he couldn't help the chuckle which left his throat.   
The doctor's nose wrinkled in defiance. Then she let out a squeal.   
Khan had swooped her up in his arms in one, strong movement.   
“I have to say, Doctor Hooper”, he purred as he climbed up the narrow stairs, balancing her effortlessly, “I admire your guts.”  
“I'm not afraid of you”, Molly retorted sourly.  
“Oh, I am more than aware of this, believe me.”  
Still smiling, Khan carried her to the third deck. With his foot he opened the door to his cabin. The moon flooded the dark room with its calming silver light and Khan carried her to his bed where he carefully laid her down.   
Their eyes met as Molly's head sank into the cushion and Khan paused, feeling this unwelcome pull again. He hovered above her and his eyes took in her sight, the silver light of the moon paling her face and blackening her eyes. She reminded him of a fairy in this moment. His father had told him and Sherlock loads of the old tales back when they had been children. Sometimes Sherlock and him had set sail on their imaginary ship to capture one.   
Thinking of his childhood and happier days in the bosom of his family made his heart clench. He felt alone all of a sudden. So alone.   
Apparently, he was more exhausted than he had thought he was if these melancholic memories could get a hold of him.  
Taking a breath, he straightened and looked down on the small, fragile woman with the eyes of a death fairie.  
“I will not forget what you did for my crew, Dr. Hooper.”  
She took a breath, her black eyes boring into his.   
“And I will not forget that you tore me away from safety, home and Sherlock. Never.”  
Khan's jaw and hands clenched.   
Without another word, he turned around and left, shutting the door behind him.   
There was nothing left to say between them.


	10. Quit pro Qou

„Finally!“

A big, white-teethed grin greeted Molly when she opened her eyes.

“Lance?” she asked, wiping the sand out of her eyes, her voice hoarse from sleep.

“The one and only, my dear. How are you feeling? We were quite worried about you.”

Speaking of worry, memories flooded Molly’s brain.

She blinked and sat up, finally noticing that Makoto was in the room as well. She greeted her with a smile.

“Are you okay?” was Molly’s first question.

“Good as new. Thanks to you. Mako told me what you did for us.” 

“It’s fine”, Molly automatically replied. “Are you sure you should be up?”

Lance chuckled and took her hand.

“Don’t worry, I’m perfectly well. No problems since 24 hours.”

“24 hours? How long have I slept?” 

Makoto and Lance shared an amused glance.

“Almost two days.”

“Wow. I haven’t slept that long since…well, ever, I think.”

“Your body needed rest” Makoto commented and patted her ankle. 

“So everyone made it?”

“Yes” Lance and Makoto replied in unison and laughed. 

Molly couldn’t help but smile. They looked so happy.

“Thank you, Molly. For my life and the life of the others”, Lance said and raised her hand to his lips. 

After a soft kiss, his nose crinkled.

“Uh, I think someone needs a shower. And with someone I mean you.”

Molly lifted her blouse to her nose and made a face.

Yes, she definitely needed a shower.

“I brought you some fresh clothes. We have the same size, I think.”

Molly combed through her hair with her fingers in an attempt to straighten the hazelnut mess.

“We’ll give you some privacy. What would you like for breakfast? You must be starving.”

Now that Lance mentioned it, Molly became aware of the big emptiness in her stomach.

“Some toast and jam would be fantastic.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

With another big smile he rose from the bed and left, Makoto following him and waving goodbye at the door.

 

Molly climbed out of a bed which wasn’t hers to undress in a room which wasn’t hers. Leaving the dirty clothes on the floor, she picked up the fresh ones and stepped into the bathroom, ignoring her bloody handprints on the door. Avoiding the mirror, she put the clothes on the toilet seat and stepped into the spacious shower, turned on the water and adjusted the temperature.

She did all these things focusing on one step at a time, refusing to think about anything else. Sleep had given her a blank mind and she fought to keep it that way, even though she knew it was inevitable.

By the time she was done washing her hair and started soaping her body with the shower gel, the dark presence of the Augment Commander invaded her mind. It took Molly almost a minute to realize that it must be because of the scent of the shower gel. It was his.

It felt awkward to wash her body with his shower gel, unwelcome thoughts of him being in her place crossing her mind.

With a sigh she stepped into the stream of warm water, tilting back her head and closing her eyes, drowning out any sound and focusing solely on the pleasant sensation of water hitting her scalp.

She would have preferred to stay in the bathroom indefinitely. Or in the bed, sleeping until it would all be over, one way or another.

Although she had slept almost 48 hours, she still felt exhausted. More mentally than physically.

She wasn’t strong enough to endure this, she thought. Being away from home, cut off from the life she knew and loved. Being a hostage again, locked up in a room and at mercy of a violent, ruthless man.

Fighting the urge to sit down and roll up into a ball, Molly turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. The mirror was fogged up, so she had a few more minutes until she had to face herself, taking her time in drying off and blow-drying her hair, still in her nude.

Then she dressed, ignoring the discomfort of wearing another person’s underwear, and pulled the thin red shirt over her head. After she had put on the blue jeans, Molly took a deep breath and lifted her eyes to the mirror and wiped the surface with her hand.

She snorted.

She looked normal.

How could she look normal?! She saw people die right in front of her eyes. She had been on her feet for 52 hours saving the lives of people she didn’t know. Apparently, all it took to look normal again was a ton of sleep and a long, hot shower.

Good to know, Molly thought sourly.

Brushing her hair with her fingers (she had spotted a comb on one of the shelves, but she would be damned if she used it), she exited the bathroom – and stopped dead when the dark figure of Khan was standing in her, no, _his_ room. Nothing on this damned boat was hers.

She couldn’t help but to stare at him, looking so perfect and handsome, his stance strong, his black clothes hugging his trained figure. For once, she didn’t get a vibe of danger from him. But maybe this was because she was too exhausted. Or she had gotten used to it already.

“Are you feeling better?”

His voice was calm and soft, like silk grazing her skin.

What was it with the Holmes’ boys and their voices? Had they taken a course on how to use it to make a girl’s heart flutter?

“I’m wearing another person’s knickers and bra. How would you feel?” 

“Constricted, for one thing.”

Molly couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped her.

Her heart skipped a beat when he smiled.

Gosh, his eyes. The way he looked at her now…Sherlock had looked at her like this a few times.

Molly averted her eyes. She couldn’t stand his sight.

“What do you want?”

There was a short pause.

“To explain you the rules on this ship.”

Just the word made her feel sick again. And the change of his tone. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she continued to loosen the knots in her wet hair.

“You will be allowed full access to the yacht as long as Lance or Makoto are with you.”

“So they are my babysitters?”

“Would you prefer to be locked up in here?”

Her eyes shot up. He looked at her challengingly. In the end, Molly looked away.

“You will assist me in developing an antidote for the antidote whenever I require your assistance.”

“I thought you were the smartest person on this planet. How much help could I be?”

Out of the corners of her eyes she saw his hands clench into fists.

“You are welcome to borrow my books in case you’re bored.”

“Great! Then I won’t have time to miss my family and friends!”

“Why are you making this so difficult?” did it burst out of Khan.

“Because you kidnapped me again!” Molly yelled back.

“Mycroft was killing my people!”

“But I wasn’t! The only one suffering now is me! Not fucking Mycroft!”

“I have to protect my family!”

“I give a toss about your fucking family!”

Molly yelped as Khan grabbed her and threw her against the wall. His hand was at her throat a second later and he glared down at her, crowding her with his body. Molly dug her nails into his upper arms, trying to push him away.

“Listen up, Molly Hooper,” he growled and his fingers started squeezing, “you will obey my orders or you will learn real suffering. You think this has been bad? Believe me, I’ve done a lot worse. And if you don’t start to respect me, I will teach you the hard way. Is that understood?!”  
To emphasize his point, he came even closer. 

His breath hit her face.

“Respect is not earned with violence, Khan. Fear is earned with violence. If you want me to fear you, continue. But don’t expect me to respect you when you're behaving like the beast Mycroft wants to see in you.”

His nostrils flared and his lip curled at the mention of his brother's name.

“Stop it!” he suddenly exclaimed and squeezed his eyes shut.

“What?” Molly asked in confusion.

“Stop this. Stop disobeying me. Fear me! Cower away from me. Cry. But don’t look at me like that!”

His voice was urgent and his face looked as if he was in pain all of a sudden.

“Don’t fight me, Molly. I will hurt you if you do.”

Their eyes locked and Molly saw the torture and the pain. The look in his blue eyes sent a shiver through her body, pooling between her legs. Her mouth fell open as she, from moment to another, was overly aware of his body so close to hers, his arm pressing against her breast while he held her throat, not squeezing it anymore, now holding it almost gently, his thumb grazing along her jaw line.

Molly’s head was spinning and she stared at him helplessly, overwhelmed by this dangerous, beautiful man.   
She watched his jaw muscles clench and unclench and his nostrils flutter.   
“Let go of me, Khan”, Molly ordered as calmly as possible.   
He did.   
After he brought some distance between them, he straightened to his full, imitating height. Molly felt the need to run away from him, but she stood her ground. Even though it wasn't easy the way his blue eyes glared down at her, all emotions wiped off his face.  
“Makoto has agreed to share her room with you. She's waiting for you in the lounge. Take your possessions and leave.”  
The chill of his voice made her heart freeze. Only hesitating a second, she gathered the few belongings she had and wanted to hurry out of the room when his voice stopped her with her hand on the handle.

“I advise you to follow my orders, Dr. Hooper. Otherwise you'll force me to prove that my threats aren't empty.”  
Molly left without looking back.

~oOo~

“You are welcome to use the bed.”  
“Oh no, I couldn't...”  
“Don't worry, I don't need sleep for another 32 hours.”  
“O...kay.”  
Molly dropped down on the bed and opened her shoulder bag. Taking out her brush and putting it on the bed side table made tears shoot into her eyes.   
“What's wrong?” Makoto asked.  
“I'm done unpacking”, Molly said choking and burst into tears.

Being consoled by a stranger was much more embarrassing than Molly could have imagined. Yet, she found it too rude to brush off Makoto's arms. After all, she just meant well.   
“I'm sorry you're in this mess”, she said while stroking her arm. “I know what it feels like...I wish I could help you. But Lance and I will keep you safe for the time being.”  
Molly couldn't help the snort.   
“So on the day Sherlock will show up to rescue me, you and Lance will step in Khan's way before he can use my life to get you out of danger?”  
The women looked at each other, Makoto's dark eyes lowering guiltily.   
Now Molly did untangle herself.   
“Please...I'd rather be alone right now.”  
“I understand. Would you like something to eat?”  
She hadn't eaten in an eternity but she wasn't hungry at all.   
“No, thanks. I just...I just need to think.”  
Makoto nodded, brushing a strand of long black hair behind her ear. Then she silently left the room.

Molly lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. After she shed a few more tears, she fell asleep again.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Molly waited until the moon hung high in the night sky before she left Makoto’s cabin, hoping she would have to encounter only a few people, if any.

For once, luck seemed to be on her side. Nobody crossed her path as she walked to the kitchen in search of food. She could kill for some toast and baked beans right now.

Her ‘host’ hadn’t allowed her to walk around on her own, but at the moment and with her belly growling from hunger, she didn’t give a toss about his stupid rules. Yet she tried to be as silent as possible while she roamed the cabinets, finding the desired utensils and food and began cooking herself a midnight breakfast. It remained silent, so Molly calmed down enough to sit at the long polished worktop and eat. While she did, her eyes wandered to the knife block next to her. The temptation was there. But she knew she would never be able to go through with it; murder someone in cold blood. It wasn’t her. And it never would be. No matter how far he would push her, she swore herself. She would find a way out of there without succumbing to violence. If she managed to keep her head down, maybe she would get a chance to hop into a life boat and escape…

“Didn’t I tell you not roam around the ship on your own?”

Molly almost choked on the toast in her mouth. She coughed up the piece of bread into the dish towel and glared at the dark presence by the door.

Khan had changed into a deep blue shirt with the first two buttons undone, combined with black trousers and a shiny black belt around his narrow waist. Molly tried not to notice how well he looked with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“I see you and your brother share a taste for tight fitting clothes.”

Molly froze. What did she just say?!

Luckily, Khan didn’t seem to be bothered by the mentioning of Sherlock. He casually walked into the room, his eyes lingering on the knives next to her before he looked at her directly.

What did he think she would do? Grab one and throw it into his chest ninja-style? Did she have to repeat that she was just a pathologist?

“Are there leftovers?”

He was standing right in front of her now, only the big table separating them, and was inspecting her food. Finally, Molly noticed that something was wrong. Or out of the ordinary, at least. Khan’s presence wasn’t intimidating. Well, it always was, it came naturally with his strong stance, the muscular body and the aloof expression all Holmes’ wore. But he didn’t try to use his presence to threaten her. This was…upsetting. It made her skin tingle.

“Are you really expecting me to share my food with you?” she said, trying to focus on keeping her distance.

“Technically, it’s my food”, he corrected her and walked around the table. She didn’t turn around to watch him, but the hair in the back of her neck stood while clattering sounds gave away that he grabbed himself a plate and put the rest of the baked beans onto it. Balancing the hot plate, fork and knife in one hand he came back into view, pulling out a bar stool from under the table while he moved and sat down on it, facing her again. 

“Is there more toast?” he asked while he piled up the beans on his fork. 

“No”, Molly replied coolly. 

He looked at her then, the eyes a warm turquoise.

“ _Could_ there be more?”

Molly gasped. How dared he asking her to make him toast?! _Him_ of all people!

He could fuck the fuck off! She had saved the fucking lives of his fucking crew, he could make his own fucking toast! She was a hostage, not his personal fucking chef!

Oh, what would she give to throw that into his face. But reason told her not to challenge him. Right now he was mellow and if she wanted to escape this blasted ship she had to co-operate. At least for the time being.

Biting her tongue, she stood up and put six slices into the big industrial toaster. When she turned around, she saw him smirk at her.

“You have to guard your eyes, Miss Hooper. I saw every swear word clearly while you silently wished me to hell.”

His voice was running over her body like cool silk. If she wouldn’t condemn herself for ever thinking it, she would say it was alluring.

Remaining stubbornly silent she stood by the toaster, her arms crossed defensively in front of her chest as she watched him eat. Even though she didn’t want to, her eyes observed how elegantly his long fingers held knife and fork and guided it to his mouth – his beautiful, soft-looking mouth – without dropping one bean along the way. Up and down her eyes wandered, following his movements. When the tip of his tongue wiped a drop of sauce from his bottom lip, she pressed her lips together. The movements of his jaw and the clenching of the muscles caused warmth to spread in her abdomen and her cheeks. Her heartbeat accelerated.

Molly was fascinated, she couldn’t help it. She felt so silly. It was just Khan _eating_. Still, it felt so intimate to witness. The room seamed smaller. Warmer. And the only thing she saw clearly was him slightly bent over and pulling the fork to his open mouth. Chewing. Swallowing. And repeat…

  
  


Molly jumped when the toaster flipped up the bread. Khan looked up at her and Molly quickly turned to hide a blush. Her heart was racing in her chest and she squeezed her eyes shut. So embarrassing!

She grabbed another plate and threw the toasts on it. With more force than necessary she pushed the plate across the table. He had to stop it with an elbow. Khan raised an eyebrow at her. A cheeky smiled played around his lips.

“I hope you choke on it” Molly hissed defiantly. 

Khan chuckled.

“I won’t count on it.”

“A girl can dream.”

Khan smiled. Molly scowled.

“The beans are excellent, by the way” Khan praised her after a moment, breaking the toast in half. 

“I just opened the can. Not much skill needed.”

“Maybe you could cook me a more challenging meal next time, then.”

Molly balled her hands into fists. The knives looked more and more appealing.

“I’m not your chef!”

Khan shrugged. Molly observed how he broke the six slices of bread into even little squares one by one.

“You could use the opportunity and poison me” he suggested, flashing a grin at her before he bit into one of those squares, dipping it in the tomato sauce beforehand.

“Poison doesn’t work on you. Lance already told me.”

“Maybe he was lying.”

“Lance is not a liar.”

Khan looked up at that.

“How would you know?”

“I just do.”

“That’s not an answer.”  
“I’m not trying to give you one.”

Khan straightened.

“Do you think Lance is a good man?”

Molly hesitated only a second.

“He’s a soldier.”

Khan smiled.

“So am I.”

“No.”

“No?”

Molly tried to keep her breath steady. They were on the edge of jumping into another fight, she could feel it. But she would not shy away from him. Someone had to remind him of what he was.

“You’re a psychologically instable murderer.”

The smile vanished. His eyes were still calm. The toast forgotten, he wiped his hands on the dish towel.

“Tell me what you know about me.”

Fear flushed through her. The last time they had been on that topic she had gotten choked by the man.

“No”, she said as calmly as possible.

Khan rose from his seat. Molly quickly pulled one of the knives out of the block. It was more of a reflex than anything else.

So much for the pacifism, she thought angrily.

Khan only chuckled when she pointed it at him.

“Put that thing away before you hurt yourself, doctor.”

God, she wanted to. She was close to panicking. Threatening someone, even him, felt so utterly wrong. But her defense-mechanism wouldn’t allow it. It gripped the plastic shaft even harder.

“Don’t come closer” she warned him when he began to walk towards her, her voice sounding as panicky as she felt. 

“Give me the knife, Molly.”  
“No!”

They paced around the table, she walking backwards, him forward, until Molly had the door in her back. She dropped the knife and wanted to dash off, but Khan had her the moment she turned around.

“Brave little lioness” he said, clearly amused, and lifted her up in his arms bridal style.

“It seems to become a habit me carrying you out of the kitchen”, he joked as he ascended the stairs. 

“What is wrong with you?” Molly just had to ask.

Him remaining so calm was just too weird.

Again, another chuckle.

“Apparently, everything. I’m instable, remember?”

“I didn’t try to offend you. It’s what I’ve heard and am agreeing with so far.”

When they reached the turn in the narrow hallway, Khan pulled her closer to him. He was radiating warmth and the scent of the shower gel she had used this morning. It made her uncomfortable that they smelled alike. And she definitely was uncomfortable that she had her arms slung around his shoulders…no, that wasn’t true. She was uncomfortable because it was not uncomfortable to do that. It felt nice. Feeling his chest against hers was nice. Comforting.

How could it feel comforting? He was a thread to her life! One minute her instincts told her to defend herself and the next minute her instincts told her to relax and let her head rest on his shoulder, that she was safe with him. Maybe she shouldn’t ask what was wrong with him. Maybe she should check herself, first.

“What else have you heard? What did Mycroft say?”

Instead of walking up the stairs to the lounge, he kept walking to the rear of the ship.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere where we can be alone…and you can’t get your hands on any weapons.”

“A-Alone?” she stammered. 

“Yes. Are you afraid to be alone with me?”

He looked down at her, amused.

“No!”

Hell yeah! He was dark and dangerous and had this confusing effect on her, of course she was afraid!

“Why is that?”

“Pardon?”   
She was momentarily distracted by the tip of his fingers touching the curve of her breast. 

“Why aren’t you afraid of me? I have been told I can be quite intimidating. And you saw me kill a man right in front of your eyes.”

“To protect me.”

Khan glanced down at her.

“Through here”, he announced, not deepening the subject, apparently. 

They passed through double doors onto a wide terrace, complete with wooden flooring and elegant black and white patio furniture.

Finally, Molly was put back on her feet. She wanted to bring some distance between them, but Khan placed his hand in the small of her back and guided her to the seating area, motioning her to sit down on one of the luxurious chaise longues.

“I’d rather…stand…”

She had turned around and found him standing right in front of her, chasing the words out of her head. His body heat clashed against her, just after the night wind had freed her of the warmth he had cradled her in while carrying her through the ship. The light of the waning moon illuminated his eyes and half of his face. He looked at her. His jaw clenched.

He didn’t touch her anymore, but the proximity and the eye contact had her heart racing again.

“Sit down, Molly” he ordered her softly. 

The hairs on her arms stood and goosebumps spread on her back. Her mouth went dry.

“No”, she replied, trying to sound as calm as him. 

To her surprise, his eyelids fluttered shut for a second and a smile lingered at the corners of his mouth.

“Why do you constantly disobey me? Why do you challenge me?”

“I really don’t know. I just…I have to.”

Molly had no idea why she answered honestly. He was confusing her again with his look and body and everything.

_Shields up, Molly!_

“Why do you have to?”

Did he come even closer? There was not even an inch between them now. For the first time in her life she was grateful for being short. This way there was at least a bit more distance between his mouth and hers. It was bad enough that his hot breath hit her cheek.

The yacht swayed a bit and their fingers brushed against each other.

For a second Molly was overwhelmed with an urge to touch him. His hands, the broad chest, his face, his lips…

She was about to lift her hands when the wind took a hold of Khan’s curls and whirled them into his face.

Curls.

_Curls.  
Sherlock!_

Molly clung to the thought of the man who was currently trying to find a way to free her. It helped clearing her head.

“I have to disobey because of Sherlock”, she stated loudly, for all the world to hear. 

The spell between them broke.

Khan straightened, looked down at her for a moment longer and then stepped away from her.

Molly let out a breath of relief.

There was also longing, which she deliberately fought down.

It wasn’t an easy task. Khan was now standing at the railing, arms crossed on his back, the long pianist fingers twitching as he looked up at the night sky, full of stars and the crescent moon. He looked so…majestic. Majestic, but so very lonely.

“Do you love him?”

The question was asked without emotion. But there was something else in his tone she couldn’t identify right away.

“You know I do.”

He had heard her shout it to him when he’d abducted her for the second time.

Khan nodded, not turning his eyes away from the star-filled sky.

“And does he love you, too?”

Molly hesitated. She knew he felt for her. She was much more than just a pathologist to him anymore. The look in his eyes when she was dragged away from him had spoken volumes. And yet…

“I don’t know.”

Now, Khan looked over his shoulder.

“Hasn’t he told you?”

Molly felt a tightening of her throat.

“No.”

“Hm” came his comment. Molly watched his fingers twitch. 

“And yet you gave up your home and your safety within the blink of an eye. All that for a man who may or may not love you…”

She frowned. Where was this supposed to go?

“It doesn’t matter if he loves me or not. Even if he had told me he didn’t it wouldn’t have changed my decisions.”

Khan turned around to face her.

“Why?”

“Because I love him. I want him to be safe. Love is not bound to the condition that it’s being reciprocated. Love is unconditionally. At least for me it is.”

“Love…”

He let the word roll over his tongue.

“Such a small word for something so extraordinary…”

“So you don’t think love is a chemical defect?” Molly couldn’t help but ask.

Khan let out a chuckle.

“These are definitely my brother’s words. Mycroft’s always been so insistent regarding this matter. Tried to hammer it into our heads when we were children.”

“Have you and Mycroft been close when you were little?”

“For a while. My mother told me that he barely let us out of his sight when we were infants. He studied us, more out of boredom than anything else, I think. I believe mother has kept one or two of his log books.”

“Log books?” Molly asked, all sorts of pictures of little Mycroft Holmes (if she did remember correctly, he was seven when the twins were born) floating around in her head, scribbling into his notebook as he watches the babies’ every move.

“Yes. His interest faded when he entered puberty, though, and he became his own test subject.”

_Too much information!_ did it shoot through Molly’s head. This thought must have been clearly written on her face, because Khan hurried to add: “ _Social_ studies. I believe some research on acne, as well.”

“Oh...yes, of course.”

If the heat in her cheeks were any indication, she was close to blushing. Or she was already, seeing that Khan’s mouth twitched in amusement.

“But I am sure that there were physical studies in secret. He was a curious boy, after all…like all of us.”

“Please stop.”

Khan chuckled.

“Hard to imagine adolescent Mycroft, isn’t it?”

“No matter what age it is impossible to imagine Mycroft in a sexual scenario”, Molly stated as professionally as possible. She was a doctor. She shouldn’t be flustered by the indication of sex or masturbation.

“Indeed.”

It was silent for a while. Molly saw how Khan’s thoughts were browsing through his childhood.

“Have you been happy?” she blurted out before she could stop herself. 

Khan blinked as if he had forgotten all about her being there. As always, her heart did a little flip as his eyes settled on her once more.

“When you were a child. Did you have a happy childhood?”

He took a slow, deep breath. He never took his eyes of her as he thought.

“Once again you are trying to switch our roles, doctor, trying to pry information from me.”

Molly placed her hands on her hips.

“First of all, I wasn’t doing it and second of all, if I had, I would have succeeded.”

Another of his short chuckles rippled through the air, mixing with the sound of the waves clashing against the yacht.

“Fair enough.”

He turned around and walked to the railing, sitting down on the bench with the white cushion. Putting his arms on the railing and crossing his legs, he captured her eyes yet again.

“I offer you a deal, Miss Hooper: A quit pro quo.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Like in Silence of the lambs?”

“Yes” he smiled, “for every question you answer truthfully, I will answer one of yours.”

“And you won’t lie?”

“No.”

“How can I possibly believe that?”

“I give you my word.”

Molly hesitated.

“I don’t even know if that means anything to you.”

His jaw clenched for a second.

“Would you like to test me?”

She nodded. A million questions shot through her mind. She settled for the most important one.

“Are you going to kill me?”

The moon was in his back and outlined his body with its silver light. Luckily, the light from the hallway shone through the bull’s eyes of the door they had stepped through so she could see his face. A mask made of stone he wore. In the short time of their acquaintance Molly had learned that he was the most dangerous when he looked like this. She had seen him outraged as well, but this face scared her more. People in rage made mistakes. People looking like this were still in full control of their mind and much more dangerous…

“It is a possibility”, was his answer in the end.

Molly gulped. Her knees were about to give in. Now she did sit down on the lounge chair.

She had no idea why his reply shocked her so, for she had known that her life was in danger. Maybe it was the fact that he had verbally admitted it to her face. Maybe it was the fact that he looked like Sherlock, a man she had always felt safest with.

“I don’t want to kill you, Molly. But as I said before, if my brother forces me to do it, I will.”

“How?” her head snapped up. “How could you do that? How could you murder a person who has done nothing to hurt you? I have done nothing to you. I’m innocent. I even saved the lives of half your crew.”

“It’s not personal.”

“No, I’m serious.”

Molly looked him straight in the eyes.

“How can you do it? How can you justify this? Don’t you have any morals? Is there a line you wouldn’t cross?”

“No. I will do anything to protect the people under my command.”

“But it won’t protect your people! Don’t you see that? If you kill me, nothing will change. Mycroft will still come after you. He will never stop hunting you, no matter what you do. On the contrary, if you kill me, you’ll just give him more reason to hunt you down. It’s totally illogical to use me as a thread. I’m nothing to Mycroft.”

“No, but you’re everything to Sherlock.”

Molly felt sick for a second.

“That doesn’t change anything” she tried to insist, her voice not as strong as before. 

It finally dawned on her what Khan’s master-plan was.

“On the contrary. It does change everything” he contradicted in this unique purr of his.

“You are right, Mycroft wouldn't stop hunting me if I'd kill you. He wouldn’t stop if I killed a thousand people. We would never be safe from him. So, in order to assure the safety of my crew, I have to eliminate the thread that my brother represents.”

Khan leaned forward. His pose was like the crouch of a tiger right before the fatal pounce.

“Unfortunately, Mycroft is very well protected. Nothing we couldn’t overcome, but by fighting through his army of special forces and assassins, I would risk losing my men and women. And I’m not willing to sacrifice anyone else of my crew. So what do I do?”

He made a short pause before he continued, giving Molly enough time to shiver from the intensity of his eyes and voice.

“I have to lure him out of his rabbit hole. And the only way to do this is if I have something he wants…or someone.”

Her eyes widened.

Their first meeting! Khan had been at Baker Street!

“There is only one person that Mycroft loves more than himself. Not our father, not even our mother. Not a special someone. There’s ever only been one.”

“Sherlock” Molly croaked. Her mouth went dry. Tears blurred her vision. 

“Sherlock” Khan confirmed. 

“But you’ve been there. You already had him. But you took me instead.”

Khan leaned back. His eyes followed the trail of the tear that was rolling down her cheek.

“You’re his heart.”

He repeated that fateful sentence he had uttered on their first meeting.

“What difference does it make?”

“It makes all the difference. Having you as my hostage gives me the chance not only to make Sherlock come to me – and I bet he is already on his way – but also to divide them.”

Molly’s eyes widened.

She had made a mistake. A horrible mistake.

“In Adelaide, Sherlock has already seen that Mycroft will do nothing to help you, even though he knows how much you mean to him. The first rip in the bond has been made. Sooner or later, Sherlock will dissociate himself from his brother in order to protect you. I will make sure of it. And once I have the person Mycroft Holmes loves, we will get our freedom!”

Molly turned away from him. She couldn’t look at Khan anymore. Feeling cold, she wrapped her arms around herself.

“As you can see, Molly Hooper, kidnapping you has been the most logical option to ensure I get what I want.”

Yes, Molly silently agreed as she watched the moonlight dance on the water. Her heart felt heavy in her chest. If only she hadn’t gone to Baker Street that day…no, there was no way she could have stayed at Bart’s. Even if she had known where she would be now, she wouldn’t have done anything different. If she hadn’t been there, Khan would have taken Sherlock. Not knowing where he was and if he was okay was something she never wanted to experience again. She had been through this hell for two years, she couldn’t have done it again without going insane.

Oh, what a mess it all was! So horrible, so painful for everyone involved. And all this because of Mycroft!

  
  


Molly flinched when a blanket was wrapped around her trembling body. For a second she saw these haunting ocean eyes, then she quickly looked away.

“You must really hate him” she sniffed, wiping the tears away with one hand, “Mycroft, I mean.”

She glanced up through the curtain of her hair. Khan was standing next to her.

“Hate is not the right word to describe what I feel.”

Molly nodded. She could imagine how he felt…no, actually, she couldn’t. There was no way she could imaging hating her own family like he must do.

…Great, no she was pitying her kidnapper. 

She sobbed.

What the heck was wrong with her?

The cushion she was sitting on yielded under the weight of the man in question sitting down next to her.

His presence so close to her instantly warmed her.

“Stop crying for yourself. If anything goes as planned, you won’t be harmed.”

She looked at him for a long moment.

“I’m not crying for my sake.”

His eyes widened when he understood. Then he frowned and she had the feeling that he looked right into her soul.

“This might be one of the reasons why you are fascinating me” he uttered. 

Molly wasn’t sure if he had meant to say this out loud.

Surprised by the sudden change of topic, she let out a soft giggle.

“I’m hardly fascinating. I just care.”

“Yes, you do. About a man who has done you no good.”

“I am considering therapy.”

He smiled at her.

“So you should.”

How odd it all was. One moment she wanted to flee, the next moment she was crying and the moment after that she was smiling. Never in her life had a man confused her more.

Khan raised his hand and brushed her hair aside to cup her face. His touch was tender, yet it set her skin aflame. Then his thumb wiped the last of her tears away and their eyes met.

Time stopped.

  
  


Molly was falling, falling. The depths of his now green eyes pulled her down further and further and she didn’t know how to stop. They were so soft now. She hadn’t been touched like this in a long while. If she thought about it – as hard as it was at the moment – she had never been touched like this before. No one had ever cradled her face and just looked at her.

Oh, it didn’t make sense! A brutal man couldn’t be this tender! A ruthless man couldn’t look at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world! A conniving man couldn’t be so expressive with one look!

A shudder traveled down her front as his thumb stroke across her cheekbone again, pooling between her legs. Her body betrayed her, reacting to his innocent touch with a fierceness that took her breath away.

As innocent as his touch might have been, his eyes certainly weren’t. There was no doubt what he felt: Khan wanted her. He longed for her. She could see it so clearly now. It was shocking to be looked at like this,;shocking and intoxicating and arousing.

The pure lust he was feeling captured her and made her head spin.   
She wanted to run.

But even more, she wanted to be kissed.

And touched.

She wanted to be claimed by this beautiful man.

If she dared say it, would he?

Would he take her right here, under the stars and moon?

Her mouth watered as she imagined his naked body being caressed by the silver moonlight.

God, how shameful she was, desiring the man who might kill her. Who had killed a lot of people. And who planned to kill his brother.

How could she desire such a man?!

  
  


Khan leaned in. Molly gasped. Her heart beat so hard it hurt her chest. The reality of it all collapsed over her. The faces of the Holmes family flashed in front of her eyes, Sherlock’s face naturally being the clearest.

“No”, she gasped with the last bit of strength in her. 

Khan paused.

The eyes which had traveled down to her mouth shot up to hers again.

His jaw muscles clenched.

He swallowed hard.

His breath hit her lips.

The heat of his body dulled her senses further.

Molly knew she wouldn’t put up a fight if he tried to kiss her. Her skin was burning and her breasts tingling. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Did he know?

Could he tell by the quiver of her lips? Or the flatness of her breath?

No, of course he couldn’t. He just saw her big, panicky eyes.

Finally, he leaned back.

Molly felt like crying.

Khan stood up and walked back to the railing.

“Tell me what you heard Mycroft say.”

His voice was calm and relaxed. No sign that he had been in the same inner turmoil she was still recovering from.

Holding her head into the wind, Molly tried to clear her thoughts and erase what just had happened, or had been about to happen.

She stared into the darkness as she tried to remember the night at the hospital, a long Christmas ago.

 

“ _They all care so much. Do you ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us?”_

_Molly stopped short at the door to the hallway. The insecurity in Sherlock's voice prevented her from joining the Holmes brothers. Never had she heard the voice other than confident and snide, humorous on rare occasions. This was new. And it upset her more than she wanted to admit. Sherlock had hurt her so much just hours ago on that blasted Christmas party. She shouldn’t worry about him. What did she care if he had just found out that the woman he apparently felt for had died? It wasn’t her business. Sherlock had made it very clear where they stood and what he thought of her._

_Knowing better, she still didn’t move._

“ _All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.”_

_Molly closed her eyes. After tonight’s events, she almost believed what Mycroft said. Life would be so much easier if she just wouldn’t care. Her thoughts drifted to her father and immediately felt guilty for thinking this. He had taught her to care, to try and make the world a better place, to help people the best she could, that every life has value and deserves protection. Even if it means your heart gets broken in order to protect it…_

_No, Mycroft was wrong. If there weren’t people who cared, this world would have ripped itself apart a long time ago._

_Molly was about to leave these two alone when Sherlock caught her attention._

“ _How is he?”_

_Silence._

_Molly frowned and leaned closer to the door._

“ _He is still alive, if that’s what you mean.”_

“ _You know exactly what I mean. Tell me.”_

“ _What good does it do you to hear about the other one?”_

“ _He has a name.”_

“ _A name he has refused.”_

“ _What?”_

“ _It’s ridiculous. Just another pathetic attempt to annoy me.”_

“ _What have you done to him?”_

_Sherlock’s voice sounded angry._

“ _You know what I’m doing. I’m trying to help him. And it’s working.”_

“ _So good he’s refused to wear the name he was given?”_

_Molly tried to peek into the hallway, but didn’t dare to do it in the end. If they caught her, she’d never recover from the shame. But she couldn’t leave, either. They were talking about someone who definitely was close to them. It almost sounded like they were talking about a family member. Maybe an uncle? A cousin?_

“ _He knew it would come with a price. A price he agreed to pay. Don’t look at me like I forced him to enter the program.”_

“ _No, you didn’t force him. You_ convinced _him.”_

“ _Yes, I did.”_

“ _He’s always been afraid of you.”_

_Mycroft made a noise that sounded almost like a snort._

“ _He’s not afraid of me. He’s afraid of the world. That’s the root of his instability. He’s always been the weak one.”_

“ _Don’t talk about him like this!”_

_Molly flinched at the sharp tone._

“ _Please don’t get even more emotional, Sherlock. I can’t stand it. And I can’t stand seeing him like this. That’s why I’m doing all of this. A few more years and he won’t have to fear anything. He will be better.”_

“ _You mean he will be useful to you.”_

“ _Yes, for the first time in his life.”_

_Again, a pause._

“ _I want to see him”, Sherlock said after a while._

“ _That won’t be possible.”_

“ _Mycroft!”_

“ _Even I am not allowed, Sherlock. Any distraction could be fatal at this stage. He needs to focus on himself and his crew.”_

“ _Crew? It’s the first time I hear about a crew.”_

“ _Well, as soon as they noticed that the experiments were successful, they altered the program.”_

“ _In what way?”_

_Mycroft hesitated._

“ _It’s a military program now.”_

“ _What? How could you let this happen?”_

“ _I had no choice. Did you seriously expect the government to invest in the genetic alteration of one individual and then stop?”_

“ _You promised me he would be safe!”_

_Sherlock was really angry now._

“ _And he is!”_

“ _Does Mummy know what you’re doing to her son?”_

_Molly gasped. Their brother?!_

“ _I won’t bother her with the details. They’re irrelevant. The only thing that matters is the outcome. And we will succeed.”_

“ _What if you don’t?”_

“ _We will. I’ll make sure of it. I used all my influence to make this possible. My reputation is at stake.”_

“ _And our brother’s life!”_

“ _You are repeating yourself.”_

_Molly couldn’t believe the coldness in Mycroft’s tone. Apparently, Sherlock couldn’t either._

“ _He was right about you. You would sell him to the devil to get what you want. And I told him to trust you…”_

_Silence. Then the tapping of an umbrella and the sound of shoes moving across the linoleum floor._

_Just when Molly as about to retreat, Mycroft’s voice sounded again._

“ _You can hate me as much as you want, brother dear, but I will always do what is necessary to protect this family. Even if it means to put one of them through hell.”_

_Sherlock didn’t reply._

“ _I believe you know the name he has chosen for himself. I remember you calling him that when you were larking about in the garden.”_

“ _Khan”, Sherlock said after a moment._

“ _Indeed. You see, all is not lost between you, if that is what worries you.”_

“ _I’m worried about the wellbeing of my brother.”_

_No more words were exchanged. Mycroft walked away and Sherlock continued to smoke. For a second, Molly thought about joining him. Most probably she would have done if the sting of his words hadn’t still been sitting deep in her heart. In the end, she silently retreated and never spoke to him about what she had overheard._

  
  


For a very long while it was quiet on deck of the yacht. Khan stood with his back to her again, arms crossed behind him, the fingers twitching.

“Thank you for your detailed report, Dr. Hooper”, he finally said, his voice flat. “You may leave.”

Molly rose automatically. She should be glad for being dismissed after everything, yet she took her time folding the blanket he had wrapped around her, glancing at him in the process.

When she was done, she still hesitated.

“Are you okay?”

He glanced over his shoulder.

“No, I’m not. Good night.”

_Just leave already_ , her inner voice told her, but Molly couldn’t. He looked so forlorn, so utterly alone on deck of this luxurious yacht in the middle of the ocean, the moon and the stars as his only guidance. 

“You’re not alone, you know?”

Why on earth was she saying this? Damn her pathetic need to be a do-gooder.

“You’ve got your crew. And you have a brother who cares about you.”

Of course he wouldn’t answer her. Molly fiddled with her hands. She fought with herself, tried to be strong and distant and get the heck out of there, but in the end she made another attempt to get through his shell.

“If there is anything I can do-“

“The only thing that would make me feel better would be to bury myself deep within you, Molly Hooper, so I suggest that you leave. Now.”

Molly bit her lip as a tremor of pleasure rippled down her body and pooled between her legs. The mere suggestion of it was so sinfully delicious. A part of her wanted nothing more.

It was this part of her that made her hurry off deck and back to Makoto’s cabin.

~oOo~

When the door fell close, Khan Noonien Singh exhaled a breath and lifted his head to the moon. The peace he had felt an hour ago was replaced by pain. So Sherlock hadn’t known what had been done to him. He had been worried…

Khan closed his eyes.

It didn’t matter. If Sherlock had wanted to, he could have gotten him out of there. Obviously, he hadn’t cared enough.

Nothing had changed.

_Both_ his brothers would fall.


End file.
